The Girl From Whirlpool
by SilverShine
Summary: When Naruto's father met his mother, his only impression was that a village out there must have been missing its idiot. Minato/Kushina.
1. Beginnings

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter One: Beginnings

* * *

Three children sat on the iron balustrade above the marketplace, looking down over the swathes of people flowing in through the village gates. One was a girl with tightly braided hair the colour of jet with eyes to match, wearing a pale indigo tunic. Her name was Ai. Beside her, swinging his legs was a boy twice her size in girth and height with a face that drew unflattering comparisons with a greedy hamster. He was Saburou. A little way off from either of them sat a boy shorter and skinnier than both his teammates with hair the colour of sunlight and eyes the colour of the clearest sky at the height of summer. His name was Namikaze Minato, and he was destined to become the fourth Hokage of Konoha and the greatest shinobi in living memory, though at that moment in time he was busy untangling a stick of dango that Ai had dropped in his hair.

"I don't get why they have to come here," Ai complained sullenly, glowering at the influx of weary, dusty travellers being rounded up into groups by chunin officials. "Why can't they stay in their own village?"

"Jiraiya-sensei says there was a 'coo day tar' in their country," Minato said. He was still picking at the sticky sauce in his hair. "If they go back to their village they'll be killed."

"So?" Ai snapped at him. "How's that our problem? Konoha won't be Konoha if half the people living here are foreigners. They'll overtake us and get free money and food and houses and stuff."

Minato thought hard and looked down at the refugees. "But we're at war," he said. "Isn't having more people on our side a good thing?"

"They're not going to fight for us," Ai said disgustedly. "They're going to leach off our generosity and eat our food and steal our women and they'll expect us to keep fighting to protect our own and now them too. Our resources are already stretched, we really don't need them coming and taking what we earned for ourselves."

It was the kind of thing Ai's father said a lot. Minato reckoned she was just reciting what she'd heard at home. He sighed and watched another group of 'Whirlpool' citizens slope through the gates. They didn't look much like trouble he decided. They didn't even look that much different from the average Konoha citizen, only a lot of them looked tired and sad and some were even crying. There were only a handful of Whirlpool shinobi down there in the crowd, and the rest seemed to be mostly civilian women and children. Minato wondered exactly why those women would 'steal away' the Konoha women.

"Where's all the shinobi?" he wondered aloud.

A large hand landed on top of his head.

"They stayed behind to fight." Minato looked up into the grizzly face of his teacher. He bore a sad sort of smile. "They gave their lives to help their families escape. It's nothing but a slaughter where they came from. We're lucky any of them escaped."

"Can't they start their own village somewhere else?" Ai asked petulantly, her arms folded.

Jiraiya gave her a slightly bemused look. "Easier said than done. Whirlpool was our greatest ally, Ai-chan. If Konoha was destroyed and we had to leave we too would depend on the kindness of our allies to make it through. We must help them because one day we might need their help." He stroked his chin. "And the women of Whirlpool are notoriously beautiful... it can't hurt to acquire such... assets."

The three students rolled their eyes and looked away. Down below a group of children were being gathered up separately from the other refugees. Minato frowned. "What's going to happen to them?" he asked his teacher.

Jiraiya shrugged. "The orphans? They'll be looked after one way or another."

That didn't sound particularly reassuring, but then Minato didn't have to think too hard what it must be like for them to be in a strange place with no family to look out for them. Minato himself didn't have a mother – only a father whom he doubted was even his real father (suspicion had gradually dawned after ten years of putting up with beer bottles being thrown at his head with accompanying remarks along the lines of 'I should throw you out,' because 'you're nothing but that bitch's bastard child!')

Minato finally managed to free the dango stick from his hair with a triumphant smile as Jiraiya continued, "They'll probably be enrolled in the academy. Maybe some will be in your classes?"

Ai made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat as if this was some major offence. Saburou didn't seem to care one way or another, but he never talked anyway so it wasn't unusual for him to be so quiet on this matter. Minato regarded the group of children with a little more interest. They were potential new friends. They were potential competitors and rivals. Maybe there was a child down there who was just as good at ninjutsu? There was no other genin in the entirety of Konoha that could match Minato's skills in any area, but how strong were the genin of the Whirlpool country? Minato didn't know much about that place other than it bordered the sea and encompassed a few small islands – and between those islands swirled the biggest whirlpools in the world.

Minato didn't know what a whirlpool was or what it looked like. He just knew that they were big and they were in the sea. But even then he probably knew more about the whirlpools than he did about the people who lived around them.

He counted the orphans – there were fifteen of them; eleven boys and four girls. Most of them were crying, especially the youngest ones, but the last girl, sitting at the edge of the group upon a bag of what were her last remaining belongings, was collected. She sat and stared around with mild curiosity at the buildings and the trees and the uniformed officials moving around taking names. Her hair caught in the light and it shone like fresh blood; a striking characteristic that set her apart easily from anyone else around her. Minato was too far away to make out anything else about her.

"Minato! Are you coming?" Jiraiya called to him.

His team was moving away down the tiered street towards the bridge.

"Ah – sorry!" Minato shot the girl with the fiery hair one last look and then quickly caught up with his teammates.

"Minato was checking out a girl," Ai said in a sing-song tone of voice.

"I was not," he said furiously, feeling his face heat up.

"Yes, you were," she said in the same tone, doing her best to wind him up. "Minato and Whirlpool Girl ~ sitting in a tree ~ K-I-S-S-I-N-G-"

"Ai!" he protested.

"First comes love ~ Then comes marriage ~ Then comes a baby in a baby carr-"

"Ai-chan," Jiraiya said reproachfully, making the girl's mouth snap shut in a heartbeat. "And Minato. None of that until you're eighteen."

"But-"

"Eighteen."

* * *

Despite people like Ai's father assuring everyone that these were the end-times for Konoha for allowing such an influx of outsiders into the village, the Whirlpoolers settled in relatively well. Not much really changed about Konoha, other than that new houses had to be built and the constant hammer of construction could be heard all over the village. New faces started appearing at the academy, but their knowledge and skills were so far behind everyone else that they had to have their own special classes. Minato only ever got to mix with them in the training yard during the mid morning and afternoon breaks.

He looked for the red-haired girl every time he went to the academy, but he didn't see her again for almost a month. It was as he was running out of the academy with his test score papers in hand (he had eleven straight S marks – the highest grade attainable) with the intent of rushing to the women's bathhouse to inform Jiraiya-sensei (it never occurred to him for a second to go home and show his father either now or later) that he came across her once again.

His route took him past the bakery where the hot bean bread was baked that made his stomach rumble every time he passed by, though he never had the money to waste on fanciful things like treats and snacks. That day there was a gang of children gathered in the path between the bakery and someone's fenced off wild garden. Minato paused and slowed down, wondering what all the shouting was about.

"Give it back!"

"Why? You can't wear this in Konoha. If you want to live in Konoha you have to wear our symbol."

"Give it back!"

"Or what?"

"I'll scream!"

"Ooh – I'm trembling in my-"

A piercing shriek split the air and everyone in the near vicinity flinched and recoiled a little. Minato peered over the shoulders of the other kids. His eyes widened to see the same red-haired girl as before standing at the centre of the gang, anger twisting her face as she faced down one of the largest bullies the village had to offer. He appeared to be holding her hitai-ate.

"Is that all you do?" he jeered her. "Some kunoichi."

"Give it back – or I'll bite you!" she snarled at him.

The bully laughed and drew back his hand. "If you want it," he said. "You're going to have to get it."

And he threw it on top of the bakery roof.

As everyone laughed, the girl's face fell in dismay, although something close to utter detestation was beginning to harden there. Minato looked up at where the hitai-ate lay on the edge of the roof, its long, dirty white ribbon dangling down to flutter in the draft one of the humming bakery vents. While the rest of the kids laughed and carried on teasing the girl, Minato folded up his exam results and carefully placed them in his mouth. He walked up to old drainpipe running down from the roof and summoned a little chakra to his hands to help aid him as he began to climb.

Gradually the laughter faded as he quickly shimmied up the pipe and reached across to catch the fluttering ribbon. By the time he had it firmly in his hands the alley below was deathly silent, but he paid them no mind as he dropped back down to the ground and turned to face the girl with the red hair.

She didn't looked quite the same as she did a month ago. She seemed to have hacked off most of her hair with a blunt kunai and now it was an uneven, jagged mess that framed her grubby face, though the colour was no less striking. She also wore clothes that seemed to have been meant for boys and if he hadn't seen her before in a dress, it would have been easy to mistake her for a boy. But her eyes defied that. They stood out above every attempt she'd made to diminish her looks, like swirling pools of green and blue beneath long dark lashes. They narrowed distrustfully at him as he approached. He gave her a smile to show he meant no harm, and held up the hitai-ate for her to take.

She made no move to take it.

So instead he stepped forward and pressed the protector over her forehead. He made quick work of tying the knots at her nape and then stepped back to see her reaction. A dark pink stain coloured her cheeks now and as she looked up at him, the light caught on the metal plate of her hitai-ate and the symbol of Whirlpool flashed in his eyes. She was grateful, he was sure. She just didn't know how to express it-

At least that was what he thought until she punched him. Very hard. In the gut.

As Minato fell with a winded wheeze to the ground, the girl looked fiercely at the bully who had accosted her originally and jabbed a thumb at her hitai-ate. "I am Uzumaki Kushina of Whirlpool! One day I'll be the greatest Kunoichi in the world and don't you forget it!"

And then she turned and shoved her way out of the ring of spectators to flee out of sight between two houses.

Finally able to breathe, Minato rolled onto his back and stared skyward. "Uzumaki Kushina," he murmured wonderingly between coughs.

What a horrible girl!

Faces peered down at him and he could tell that they all thought he'd spoiled their fun, but Minato had the unusual gift of popularity and people found it difficult to dislike him even when he was doing stupid things like this. Even the worst bullies didn't have the heart, or perhaps the nerve, to pick on him. Except for Ai. She was always picking on him.

"You're such a bleeding heart, Namikaze," someone said as they helped him up.

"I should punch you too for being such a div," the bully grumbled.

"It wouldn't be half as hard as the one I just got," he rasped.

The gang dispersed and Minato sat up slowly, carefully cradling his abused stomach. That girl, Kushina, hit as hard as Saburou did, and that was nothing to be taken lightly. If he ever saw her again it would be far too soon.

Driven to such distraction, he almost forgot about his test results. They'd fallen out of his hand when the girl had punched him, and he sat massaging his belly for a long time before he remembered them and carried on his search for Jiraiya-sensei.

He found him at the training grounds, sitting against the wall as he tapped a pencil against a small notebook in his lap. "What did you expect?" he said, when Minato showed him his results. "You're a genius!"

This was true, so Minato started telling him about the red-haired girl and her killer right hook.

"Is it possible? The most soft-hearted boy in Konoha has finally met someone he can't stand?"

"Jiraiya-sensei..." Minato murmured, embarrassed. Wind blew through the training grounds, ruffling up his blond locks. "I just don't get it! I was trying to be nice and then she just punched me. I don't know what her problem is."

"Women," Jiraiya grunted in a derisive tone, as if it was all Minato needed to know. "It is the purpose of their gender to confuse and abuse us men. Never forget how heartless they are, Minato. When a woman says no, she means 'do the dishes first' and when she says yes, she means 'until I change my mind', and if you don't figure out their secret code they'll get upset and blame you for everything. Don't try to understand what motivates their strange brand of female logic. Better men than us have tried and gone mad in the process."

Minato watched his sensei scribbling furiously away in his notebook, muttering something like, 'that's good, I'll use that somewhere'. "I thought you liked women," Minato pointed out.

"That is the curse we bear as men," Jiraiya said sadly. "Women make our lives difficult with their contrary ways, but masochism is in our blood. We can't live with them. We absolutely cannot live without them. Of course, you're young, and you don't yet realize what it is about the fairer sex that endears them to us."

Minato wrinkled his nose. "Endear?" he repeated. "Girls are useless. They're always either giggling in groups and talking about you behind your back or punching you in the stomach and rubbing food in your hair. How can anything about them be 'endearing'?"

Jiraiya chuckled. "When you're older you'll understand."

"What are you writing?"

"Ah – oh – never you mind." His teacher quickly snapped his book shut and shoved it inside his vest. "Show me that nature manipulation you're working on."

Always eager to show off, Minato clambered to his feet and clapped his eyes on the three tall posts protruding from the ground a few yards away, reaching toward the sky. He took a moment to find his stance and focus his chakra, and then with a sharp strike of his arm, a gust of air so sharp it sang as it cut through the air went streaking towards the posts.

In the quiet that followed, three loud bangs could be heard as each post was severed and the top halves came crashing down to earth. Minato looked on happily.

Jiraiya sucked his pencil thoughtfully. "You've figured out some form manipulation too, huh?"

"Yeah," Minato said. "But it could be better couldn't it, Sensei?"

"Hm?"

"You said there were different grades of manipulation for both nature and form. What would happen if you used the highest grade of form manipulation with the highest grade of nature manipulation?"

"Something catastrophic, no doubt," Jiraiya said darkly, but he seemed amused. "It could work in theory, but first you'd have to figure out what exactly the highest form is. I doubt even you could figure it out and be able to control it, as well as imbue it with nature."

Minato pouted. "I bet I could."

"Egotism doesn't suit you, Minato," Jiraiya said as he got to his feet. "Although it's probably deserved."

"Sensei?"

"It's a nice day, Minato. Don't you have anything fun planned? Worry less about your training and go have fun. Chase some girls. Figure out how to avoid being punched-"

"But-"

"I think I need to do some more research for my book."

* * *

After that, Minato realised he might have seen Uzumaki Kushina around more often than he'd realised. He'd previously been on the lookout for that pretty girl in the dress with the long red hair – whereas in reality he should have been looking for a dirty faced tomboy with a fringe as crooked as the horizon above the Iwa mountains. Now that he knew what to look for, he started seeing her almost everywhere, although he was beginning to wish he wasn't.

Being that she was in the special catch-up classes with the rest of the Whirlpool children, the only time they ever really crossed paths was in the playground. She was friendless and sulky, and mostly sat alone on a swing at the end of the grounds where few kids played. No one approached her, save for the academy instructors who often tried to cajole her into playing with someone other than the swing. She only ever stared stolidly back until they left her alone. Her Whirlpool headband seemed more worn and dirty every time Minato saw it, but she never took it off. Some of the kids even joked that she probably slept in it.

Later, Minato would learn that this was actually true.

In the spirit of the good Samaritan, he tried to approach her two more times in order to befriend her. Once by offering to push her on the swings (she pushed him in the chest without a word and stormed away) and once by sitting next to her at lunch and asking if she liked the baked beans (she didn't, so she dropped her portion over his head).

After that, Minato vowed not to bother with her again. She was friendless for a reason, and his hair had taken enough abuse from girls to last him a lifetime. For the most part he lost interest and forgot about her. His days were filled with training and learning and practice and field assignments. That ambitious claim he'd made to his sensei about mastering the ultimate form manipulation was something he was struggling to live up to, and any spare time he had was dedicated to crawling through the library and finding every book every written on the subject of form manipulation in order to better understand it.

When the last year of his time in the academy approached, he had just turned ten and was desperate to get a move on. Come the following year he would graduate and his team would finally be certifiable ninja ready for deployment. For all his life wars had been raging unheard in the distance. Jiraiya-sensei had fought in them and returned many times as a decorated hero for the lives he'd saved. Minato wanted to be a hero – one who all the nations talked about. Allies would whisper his name with awe and admiration, and enemies would whisper it with fear. But first he had to finish his homework.

And it was in this last year that he was forcibly reminded of the whirlpool refugees. They'd been filtering through back into the regular classes as they gradually caught up, though they had to be forgiven for their slowness. When you were from a country right at the heart of two wars, schooling was probably the last thing on your mind back there, and Minato's hope that he would find a suitable challenge amongst them was looking like it would go unfulfilled.

Then that girl arrived in the class.

As one of the last to be transferred, she was one of the slowest. She sat at the back of the class with a permanent scowl on her face, and when Minato ever chanced a look at her work, all he noticed was a lot of large, uneven handwriting that meandered across the page like the lines on the paper were just for decoration rather than guidance. Whenever the teacher asked her a question, half the time she wouldn't say anything, and the other half she would just give the wrong answer.

The class was often split into pairs or groups for assignments, and it happened often enough that it was only inevitable that he eventually found himself forced to sit next to her and try to communicate with her.

It was rather like talking to a wall.

"… so if two X plus four equals twelve, X must be four… you see?" Minato said, showing her the equation.

Kushina didn't give even the merest flicker of acknowledgement. Her head was rested on her folded arms over the desk and she was looking away from him quite pointedly.

"You see, because… if you take away four, the equation becomes two X equals eight. So you just have to divide eight by two and you get the value of X. Which is four. Right?" Minato tried to push the text book towards her, but she only leaned away. "C'mon, it's easy. You get this, don't you?"

"No, I don't," she said baldly.

"But this is important-"

"No, it's not!" she snapped, lifting her head. "When you're out there with people setting fire to your house and men pulling your mother into the street, you're not sitting there thinking what X might equal."

She put her head back in her arms and went back to ignoring him. Minato didn't bother her again. He quietly filled in the rest of the answers himself and thought to himself that perhaps her vehemence against academic subjects might have been more understandable if she hadn't been equally bad at the practical and physical aspects of schooling. She wasn't the fastest on the track. Her elementary ninjutsu techniques were weak and despite being left-handed, she would only hold a kunai in her right hand.

"That's how we are taught in Whirlpool," was her contrary response whenever she was criticised.

Minato was inclined to think Whirlpool had it wrong, but at least it explained why her handwriting was so atrocious.

The year passed swiftly and before he knew it summer was upon them and the final exam results were being handed out. As predicted, Minato passed with the best marks in the year – and the best marks of the last fifty years, for that matter. Ai and Saburou naturally passed with better than average grades, and didn't seem to mind Minato too much as long as he didn't rub his results in their faces.

The only one in their class who didn't pass was the red-haired Kushina.

"There's obviously something wrong with her," Ai said icily. "In the head."

They were standing out in the playground, fresh from the high of receiving their results, surrounded by other ecstatic children and their proud parents and teachers. Ai's father was standing a little distance away talking with Saburou's parents and Jiraiya. Minato's father hadn't appeared, which Minato himself was rather glad of. The last time his father had managed to pull himself out of a bottle and attend some important parent-teacher event, it had been rather embarrassing. Minato was perfectly happy to share this moment with just his team and his teacher, though when he looked across the grounds at the girl sitting alone in the shadows upon the old swing some of the happiness went out of him. She hadn't passed, but even if she had, there was no one to cheer with her. No one cared, not in the least because Kushina had spent her years in the academy doing her best to make sure of it. It was easy to stand with Ai and take the attitude that this foreign girl had no feelings to hurt and she deserved all her misfortune with such a bad personality, but when he saw Kushina sitting there by herself, staring at the headband in her hands whose ribbon had finally deteriorated and was no longer wearable, how could he feel anything but sadness? It wasn't her fault she had been born without talent or brains, any more than Minato deserved praise for being born a genius.

So he said, "Leave her alone, Ai. How would you like it if someone said that about you?"

His teammate looked affronted. "Well, why don't you just go marry her if you love her so much?!"

Saburou laughed, one of the few sounds he ever made, and Minato retreated to the relative safety of Jiraiya's shadow. It might have been a mistake, because the moment he did his teacher seized his shoulder and dragged him out into the open again. "Ah! Here he is, sensei, the one I was telling you about. Minato, say hello to the Hokage."

"Hello, sir," Minato said looking up at the tall and (to his young eyes) extremely old man standing before Jiraiya. Other adults he'd never seen or met before but whom were wearing equally official looking robes and uniforms peered down at him curiously.

"Congratulations on your results, my boy," said the Hokage with a grandfatherly kind of smile. "The best for fifty years, I hear. It seems you have broken my record."

Minato's eyes widened. "I'm sorry, sir."

The adults laughed and the Hokage grinned broadly. "I supposed we can expect many great things from you, Namikaze," he mused, though the laughter in his eyes faded as they wandered over to the lonely girl on the swing. "Shame it wasn't a hundred percent pass rate this year. I was so hoping that all the refugees would have caught up by now but... the immigration committee will be on my back again, no doubt."

"We'll just have the girl tutored over the summer," said one of the Hokage's advisors quietly. "She can retake the examinations before next year and it'll count. Perhaps one of her friends...?"

"Kushina doesn't have friends," Minato told the woman.

"A little socially awkward, that one," Jiraiya intercepted hurriedly. "Although Minato's the only person she's opened up to. He's a kind boy... very patient. A natural teacher, one might think."

Minato stared up at Jiraiya blankly. What on earth was he trying to suggest? Kushina had only opened up to him in the same way a venus fly-trap opened up to an insect.

"Yes... yes... there's something very fitting about that... the top student lifting up the dead-last... yes, yes..." The Hokage stroked his chin for a few moments, gazing skyward. Then he smiled again. "Then it's settled."

And he wandered away with his entourage to meet more parents and teachers, leaving Minato absolutely lost as to what had been 'settled'. He turned to ask Jiraiya who was looking unusually crafty. It was the expression he normally wore when he said he was thinking about research trips. Suddenly he felt very worried.

"This is your chance, Minato," Jiraiya said, bending down to conspire with him.

"For what, Sensei?" Minato asked apprehensively. If he was about to be asked to sneak into the bathhouse to steal underwear again, he was out of there. He still had the bucket shaped dents in his back from the last time, and he found he was getting rather too old to be able to widen his eyes and wobble his chin to ingratiate himself to a pack of naked women.

"To tutor Kushina."

Minato looked across the grounds at the girl on the swing who was now exploring the inside of her nose with a finger. He looked quickly back at his Sensei. "I don't think so."

"No, think about it, Minato," Jiraiya said, holding up a hand as if to slow him down. "You have broken the fifty year record... the record set by the current Hokage himself. Do you know what old Sarutobi-sensei was thinking when he met you just now?"

"Uhh..." Minato scrambled for the answer.

"He was thinking if you might very well be fit enough to become the next Hokage." Jiraiya spread his hands with a grin, but Minato only stared. "Oh, come on, kid, don't tell me you've never thought of it. Every child dreams of becoming the Hokage, and you're the brightest boy in the school... if anyone has a chance, it's you."

"Uhh..." Minato said again.

"But there are more qualities required to be considered than simple brilliance. You must be kind, patient, benevolent, and wise. If you can bring that little viper over there up to scratch before the end of the summer, I think it will prove something to the Hokage and the rest of this village."

It would certainly prove that he could work miracles. "This seems awfully calculated," he said mistrustfully.

"Then look at her." Jiraiya turned him to point in Kushina's direction again, now wiping something suspicious off on her shorts. "If she doesn't pass this summer, she'll have to repeat the year. She'll be older than the other kids and even more of an outsider than she is now. Don't you think, after her hard life, she deserves to have someone take the time to help her? I've spoken to your teacher, Minato, and it's true. He says you are the only one she's opened up to."

"But she's hardly said more than three words to me!"

"Then that's more than she's said to anyone else. Maybe you haven't noticed because everyone wants to be your friend, Minato, but however small the signs, you are the only one she likes. If there's anyone who can help her pass, it's you."

Minato felt his shoulders sag. He could see his summer slipping away. He should have been imagining the coming summer months with his team, going out on fun, dumb D-class assignments and training like hell in the fields reserved for graduated ninja. Instead he could see his days filling up endlessly with that horrible girl's face.

"I suppose... someone has to," he said at last, his heart feeling heavy.

Jiraiya beamed. "And this is why you'll make a great Hokage," he said, and when Minato looked puzzled he ruffled the boy's hair. "Only you would throw away a summer on a hopeless case like her."

"Oh..." This was not a great boost of confidence. The fact that Minato felt awful made him rather worried that he really wasn't so kind and patient after all, and as he crossed the grounds towards the swing he began to wonder if he was doing this to, as Jiraiya had said, prove to the Hokage and everyone else that he was a nice person, or if the only one he needed to impress was himself.

Kushina watched him as he approached the same way a wild animal did, one who was deciding whether or not to bite or flee. "Come to rub it in," she snarled, "Mr Smarty-pants?"

He felt even worse. "You have another chance, you know," he mumbled, feeling rather hot behind the ears. "You can retake the exams in two months."

She sniffed loudly and wiped her nose. It was bleeding a little. "What, and fail again so you and all your stupid fans can come and laugh at me a second time?" she said sulkily. "Why don't you go back to crawling up that old man's arse? He's the leader of your village, isn't he? What, do you fancy yourself the next boss or something."

"No, I – look, it's your village too!" Minato protested.

Kushina stuck out her tongue, along with her middle finger. For a moment he was too shocked to speak. That was something he'd never seen a girl do. "My village is Whirlpool!" she said, practically baring her teeth at him. "It's the most beautiful village in the land with the strongest ninja! And I'm going back there soon, so what do I need to pass your stupid exams for?!"

Minato bit the inside of his cheek. Last he'd heard from Ai, what was left of Whirlpool wasn't so pretty anymore. But... "Is that why you don't try? Because you don't care?" he asked quietly.

Kushina pulled another face. "No, I'm just stupid," she retorted, "that's what they all say. That's what you all think."

"I don't think that," he said, not knowing if it was a lie or not. Kushina had never struck him as unintelligent, just extremely unmotivated, but that could have been a consequence of not understanding her lessons, he supposed. "Hey, you could prove to everyone that you're not stupid, if you work really hard this summer."

She rolled her eyes.

"I'll help you."

Kushina threw herself out of the swing so fast, Minato took a hasty step back. "Leave me alone!" she exploded. "Who do you think you are, lording it over me all the time! I hate you!"

"I'm not lording anything over anyone!" he cried defensively. "I just want to help you!"

"No, you don't! You're just another arrogant Konoha boy who looks down your nose at me!"

"I can't help it, you're so short..."

"Go away!"

"So you want to repeat the year?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she snorted. "But I'm not going to. I told you, I'm going back to Whirlpool when the civil war ends."

"You think that'll be before the end of summer?"

She remained quiet, scuffing her badly worn sandals into the dry grass.

"It might not calm down in your country for years. At least if you pass, you won't have to go back to the academy ever again."

She was tempted. He could see an ugly frown forming on her brow every time he mentioned the academy. She must really have hated the place. "So how does that work, then?" she asked petulantly. "You helping me?"

"I'll... well, I can tutor you."

"Where? Your house?"

Minato had never invited a friend over to his house before, and he didn't much like the thought of even the unpleasant Kushina meeting his father either. "How about yours?"

He regretted it immediately because her stare turned colder. "I don't have one."

"Uh..." Now he felt awful. "Ok, how about me meet at the library next week? Monday morning?"

She stared at him balefully, so he took that as a yes and was walking backwards away from her so fast he was halfway across the grounds before he turned around. He found himself practically nose to nose with Ai.

"What was that about?" she demanded, arms folded. He wondered if this was what it was like to have a mother.

"Nothing," he said, which he should have known would only make her more suspicious.

"Were you organising a date or something?" Her dark eyes narrowed on him.

"No!"

Jiraiya strolled up behind her. "Well?" he asked.

"Next Monday."

Ai thrust a finger at him. "Aha! It is a date!"

"No!" Minato cried again, growing frustrated. It wasn't that he didn't want anyone to think he was 'dating' Kushina – he'd much rather no one thought he was dating anybody. At eleven, going with a girl was more a subject of ridicule than envy, because although they were now graduated ninja ready to take on their first assignments, they still hadn't grown out of the view that the opposite sex was a natural enemy. In Kushina's case, very much so.

But Ai was already off, skipping through the crowds of genin, parents, and teachers, singing in a loud, piercing voice. "Minato and Kushina ~ sitting in a tree ~ K-I-S-S-I-N-G ~"

Her voice faded into the distance but more than a few people were looking at him now and were witness to the alarming shade of red spreading across his cheeks. But some of the adults didn't seem so interested in what Ai was shouting, and when they looked at him he distinctly heard a few mutters.

"Top of the year..."

"... scored higher than the Hokage..."

"...such a handsome boy."

"Looks just like his mother..."

Minato sighed and, rather fed up with the whole day, decided to go home and let his father know he was now a fully fledged ninja with possibly the most brilliant mind in the village. He might as well get it over with and his day couldn't get much worse anyway. When he arrived in the small, dirty little apartment at the edge of the village, his father was where he was most days: sitting in his armchair, a framed photograph of Minato's mother in one hand and a bottle in the other.

From the doorway, Minato leaned into the room. "I passed, dad."

"That's nice, boy," his father said, his voice thick and slurry from drink. He didn't look up from the picture. "I'm proud."

Minato figured he ought to go to his room now, but his father's admission of pride surprised him and he felt the need to validate it. "I came top of the class," he added.

"Did you?" Something twinged there in his father's expression as he looked up, as if it was suddenly dawning on him that his son was standing there and he had been trying for the last seven years of his life to become a genin.

"Yeah... highest scores for fifty years," he said quietly with a faint blush, and when his father only stared he hastened to add, "Higher than Sarutobi-sama."

His father looked away with a faint scoff. "You're a little liar, Minato."

Minato's heart began to sink. "I'm not lying; it's true."

"How could a bastard like you hope to consider yourself equal to the likes of the Hokage?" his father sneered at him.

He'd never attended any of Minato's parent and teacher meanings so he had to be forgiven for having no idea. "If you just asked Jiraiya-sensei-"

"And humiliate myself before one of the jonin? You'd love that, wouldn't you, boy! You're nothing more than a dirty little liar," he spat. "Just like your mother."

He hurled the object in his hand at the doorway and Minato promptly stepped back and watched it shatter against the wall on the other side of the hall. Almost at once his father gave a great groan of alarm and lurched to his feet to stagger towards Minato. "I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I lost my temper... I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."

And he carried on staggering right past Minato to sink to his knees beside the shattered picture frame. The photo inside was scratched terribly, almost obliterating the smiling face beneath the fragmented glass. "Forgive me," his father babbled on, dropping the wretched bottle he'd intended to throw. "I didn't mean it."

Minato went upstairs and, for the rest of the evening, played picnic with his parade of stuffed animals.

* * *

TBC


	2. Sides Unseen

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 2! To answer a few questions, no, I'm not sure how long this will be - I'm anticipating something between 10-15 chapters, though I'm going to try to keep it as short as possible, and yes, this will basically end around the Kyuubi attack but I don't plan to wallow in the tragedy. The angst quota is being filled with Scarlet Scroll which will be posted soon, and will probably be updated concurrently with this one. I'm drafting chapter 6 at this moment in time. So anyway, enjoy! Any further confusion should be addressed in the story!

* * *

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Two: Sides Unseen

* * *

That first week after graduation it seemed as if summer had come into full bloom. Kids of all ages released from the academy were free to roam the streets and the sound of childish laughter could be heard everywhere as the sun shone down on the village and flashes against windows. Everyone seemed happy. After all, who could be gloomy on such a beautiful day?

Minato. That was who.

Having spent the past year longing for this summer when he could finally begin official training with the other graduates and the more seasoned nin, he was feeling pretty hard done by. This was because on a day when he should have been running around like a lunatic in one of the genin training grounds with Ai and Saburou, enjoying the sunshine and the smell of fresh green life, he was on his way to shut himself into the village library with a girl who went everywhere with a little storm cloud over her head. He was half-hoping she wouldn't even bother to show-up, or had forgotten their appointment. But that was hopeless. If she failed to turn up, other kids in his position might just shrug and go play outside. Minato knew he was pathetically responsible enough to track down where she lived and remind her all over again about the consequences of failing her exams twice.

It was needless speculation. When he arrived at the library, she was already there waiting for him on the steps, wearing what he suspected she'd been wearing a week ago on graduation day. Had she at any point taken those clothes off and washed in the intervening time?

"Ready?" he asked her, smiling a little fixedly.

She looked at that smile in disgust and went inside ahead of him.

Although he initially dreaded these lessons, as the days slid past he grew to consider the tutoring rather less hostile than he'd initially expected. There was even something extremely cathartic about reciting information from books he knew off by heart to a catatonic nitwit who spent most of the time with her forehead pressed to the library table.

"So you see why lightning is greater than earth, but weaker than wind."

"Nnnnn."

Minato saw himself as a rather diligent teacher, it was just his pupil who was unwilling. She pulled faces, picked her nose, and was a genius at making him feel like the stupid one for having bothered to learn all this stuff in the first place.

"You need to get this or you won't pass!" he warned her.

"Yeeeees."

But it was a case of leading a cat to a pond but being unable to make it swim – and if he tried to force the issue, he would find claws permanently lodged in his arms for his trouble. She was not only disinclined to learn, but vehemently opposed to it for some personal philosophical reasons.

"When will you ever need to know the boiling point of water when you're fighting someone?!"

"It might come up," he said quietly, though he knew that wasn't the point. A shinobi wasn't also a warrior of great skill, but a man – or woman – of great intellect and wisdom. Having a rounded education developed them as _people,_ rather than as just killing machines_._

He'd already explained that to Kushina but she'd just looked at him like he was an idiot again.

Occasionally the lessons would move outside when the subject turned to improving physical skills, and although he was cleared to use the proper training grounds, as an academy student Kushina was still restricted to using only the academy grounds which were, typically, closed off during the summer holidays. The only places they had in which to practice were the narrow, broken alleys behind houses, and a few abandoned buildings in the oldest districts. They had to be careful. If the Uchiha police caught them messing around condemned houses and shops, they'd be sent home with a flea in their ear.

For the most part, however, Kushina was just about as enthusiastic in practical matters as she was intellectual. He showed her all the basic jutsu she needed to know to pass the test, and when she wasn't mispronouncing their names, she was mixing up the hand seals.

"You're left-handed," he tried to tell her. "You have to take that into account when making the seals. Everything is reversed for you."

"That's not how we were taught in Whirlpool," she said sullenly, continuing to hack her kunai away into the ground with her right hand. Minato didn't know what she was doing. She was supposed to be making a clone, not digging holes in alleys.

"Whirlpool might have had it wrong," he said tiredly.

Kushina just glared at him.

"You only have two months left," he sighed. "If you haven't grasped it all by then... then..."

"Then what?"

"Then you'll have to repeat the year. I can only help you so much."

"Fat lot of help you've been then," she grumbled, and soon after they parted ways. The sun set on another long and unproductive day, and Minato spent the evening, as he did most evenings, mentally going over the lesson plan for tomorrow, wondering how he was supposed to get the importance through to her. Then he counted the food supplies in the fridge and calculated he would have to go shopping next Saturday if he and his father were going to have enough to last through the following week. He used the last of the chicken to make a supper of sweet chicken strips and rice-balls, and separated it onto two plates. On his way to eat upstairs in his room, he stopped beside the sofa in the living room where his father was stretched sideways, snoring heavily. He'd been asleep since Minato had arrived home, so he certainly hadn't eaten yet.

"Dad," he called softly, placing the plate on the sofa cushion beside his father's head. "It's your dinner, Dad."

Gingerly, he shook the man's shoulder and tensed up as he stirred and blinked open his bloodshot eyes. Sometimes his father _really_ didn't like being woken up, and one had to be prepared to duck. Those puffy red eyes fixed on the plate nearby and with a groggy croak, his father reached out to pat Minato's unkempt blond locks. "...y' a good boy, son," he said, though it was hard to make out.

Once upstairs, changed into his pyjamas and munched his rice-balls contemplatively.

Kushina. _Kushina, Kushina, Kushina._ It was the only name that went through his head these days, and each passage was tinged with exasperation, worry, and a growing sense of nihilism. He had met the immoveable object, whose existence had until recently been hypothesized only by philosophers, and he had been tasked to move her up a hill. It wasn't happening. The end of summer was approaching, the last chance to pass the exams was going to come, and at this rate Kushina was going to perform as badly as last time.

He'd disappoint Jiraiya-sensei. He'd disappoint the Hokage. He'd disappoint all those stranger who'd gathered around, holding him to the expectations of his mother. He might have worried about disappointing his father, but as of yet the man knew nothing of his attempt to tutor the academy's dead-last student.

Most of all, he would have disappointed himself, because he would have failed Kushina. He owed her nothing, he thought. She was always mean and rude and standoffish, as if she resented these lessons even though no one was really forcing her to take them. But she only needed the right guidance... the right approach... the right person.

He couldn't fail her.

So when he went to meet her the next day at the same alleyway behind the bakery – one of the few places they had yet to be chased out of by the Uchiha police – he was a little surprised to see her performing a perfect nature manipulation jutsu.

He stopped dead when he saw her, sitting with her back against the wall of the bakery, beneath one of its huge humming vents that poured the sweet, yeasty scent of fresh bread that was opposite a sagging, broken chain-link fence that backed onto someone's badly neglected garden. But little by little, the fence was breaking even more. One link snapped, then another. A third went flying off with a ping, and the fence shuddered.

Kushina just sat, flicking her finger with every snap of metal.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She froze, fingers suddenly clamped between her knees in a bid for innocence. The fence wobbled to a peaceful standstill, as if breathing a sigh that the abuse had stopped. "Nothing," Kushina said, eyes wide at him. "I wasn't doing nothing."

That meant she _was_ doing something, but he hadn't really managed to make her understand about double negatives yet so he refrained from pointing it out. "Were... you... using jutsu?"

"No," she said quickly. "Nature manipulation is just one of the fundamentals."

_Fundamentals_? He'd only been instructed about nature manipulation a couple of years ago by his sensei, and he knew for a fact that it was advanced chunin-level stuff that had never been taught at the academy.

Minato went over to the fence and ran his finger over the cuts in the links. They were perfectly, incision-like strikes with a precision that must have taken years to master. He looked back at Kushina who was still staring wide-eyed at him as if she was expecting him to shout at her. He'd caught her vandalising a fence, but really, that was nothing compared to this revelation.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded. "This is C-class or even B-class stuff!"

She stared at him, nonplussed. "This is basic," she said.

"No, it isn't!" he cried. "I've been breaking my back to show you how to do a simple shadow clone, and you can already manipulate nature! What are you, earth – no – wind? Are you wind?"

"I'm wind," she said. A curious expression came over her that Minato didn't think he saw too often; she was surprised.

"I'm wind too!" he cried happily. "This is perfect! I know _loads_ of wind jutsu I can show you – but, _why_ didn't you tell me? Why didn't you show that to the examiners?"

A sullen scowl wrinkled her nose. "What would have been the point?" She stuffed her hands deeply into her pockets. "I showed the instructors what I could do when I arrived, and they told me it didn't matter. I had to relearn things the 'proper way' or I wouldn't become a Konoha genin. They didn't care that I was already a Whirlpool genin!"

"You... you what?" Minato stared at her in amazement. "You're already a ninja?"

Angry, bitter tears were starting to leak down her cheeks, dripping off her nose and dotting the metal plate bearing the whirlpool insignia that was now hung around her neck these days from a frayed string. She hesitated, as if she thought she'd already said too much. Then she cried wretchedly, "Since I was nine!"

"So... you've already taken the test?" he asked doubtfully, because it seemed amazing to him that someone who had passed the genin exam two years ago would have such trouble with it now.

"It wasn't the same," she said, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. "Here you teach about deception and hiding, you're all taught the same tricks to use against each other and how is that any help? In Whirlpool we're taught according to our strengths! Each of us is unique!"

"So you're taught about nature manipulation first?" he guessed. Minato was impressed with the tough regimen, but he didn't think it could possibly be an effective way of teaching – not if it produced people like Kushina whose jutsu fundamentals were as weak as her academic knowledge. What good was it to master nature manipulation when you could barely hold a kunai?

Of course, then it hit him that he'd been making an enormous oversight since these lessons had begun. He'd assumed the Whirlpool curriculum was the same as Konoha's. Not once had he entertained the thought that Kushina could have skills beyond what was taught in the academy, or that her ineptitude with all these subjects might not translate to an ineptitude of _all_ subjects.

"So... what techniques do you know?" he asked her.

She looked at him with wide eyes, the green-turquoise colour all the more pronounced after her tears. He knew he was the first person to ever ask her that, and the sudden change in her was nothing short of miraculous. Her perpetual scowl melted away into bubbling excitement as she rushed to rise. "I can do taijutsu," she said.

Minato would beg to differ. He'd been showing her taijutsu stances and techniques for three weeks and she'd yet to demonstrate even a correct ready stance. "Ok," he said, willing to humour her. He was desperate for anything at this point.

She assumed a stance, but it wasn't like any he'd seen in the academy curriculum, where students were taught to brace their feet apart and draw their hands into loose fists. Kushina's pose by contrast was very _feminine –_ there was no other word for it – and it looked so odd on a girl who strove to otherwise avoid reminding anyone of her femininity. She held one hand up above her head and one out before her, and balanced on one foot. She was as poised as a heron before a strike. After a moment she executed a series of moves against an invisible opponent, and Minato noted that she fought low to ground and mostly used kicks instead of punches, utilizing her greater lower body strength. But overall there were a lot of unnecessary flourishes and turns, as if she was dancing instead of fighting, and although it was unexpected enough to take a few enemies by surprise, she was expending way more energy than necessary.

When she finished the kata, he asked, "Why didn't you show that to the instructors?"

"I did," she repeated with exasperated patience. "They said it wasn't to standard. I would have to relearn it all _your_ way."

And by 'your way', she meant Konoha's way, a way she had no doubt scorned from the very beginning. It was clear that if she couldn't do taijutsu her way, she wouldn't do it at all. How maddening! "When you retake your exams, you should definitely do it your way, however you like," he told her. "But you can probably improve it. You're using a lot of energy-"

"I know. _My_ instructors told me I had much higher energy and chakra levels than anyone else in the academy, so they taught me this particular style. It was best suited for me."

"It's very _pretty_, but it's not totally practical-"

"It's _fine_ for me," she said loudly.

"Ok," he replied meekly, not wanting to argue over it. He was just relieved that she knew more taijutsu than he originally could have hoped. "What about ninjutsu?"

She formed a few seals and slashed her palm at the alley wall beside them; a large gash in the brickwork appeared. "The first thing we're taught in Waterfall is our elemental affinity, and everything we learn is based on that. Swapping logs around and making clones that any half-wit can see through is for _babies._ That's not ninjutsu."

She showed him more – a technique for blowing high velocity winds from her mouth that could potentially blow opponents away if she could somehow make it a little stronger, and another that drew them in. She could create, out of nothing, a smoke-screen to hide herself, and even showed him she could create a miniature hurricane in the alley, and swore she could make one ten times bigger if they had the space, and given her boast about possessing an abnormally high level of chakra, he was prepared to believe her.

"This is great," he said to her. "Since I've got a wind affinity too I can show you even more advanced stuff, like how to make wind clones! I swear, if you can pull off a wind clone in the exam, you'll have the examiners eating out of your hand. You'll be a genin in no time-"

"I already told you," she huffed, "I _am_ a genin."

"Yes, but now you'll be a Konoha genin."

"I suppose that's the only kind of genin that counts, huh?" she sneered sarcastically.

"Well..." he began slowly. "Whirlpool doesn't exist anymore so if you want to become a chunin, you have to go through Konoha's system from the beginning to-"

"Whirlpool still exists!" she broke in, outraged.

He shrugged, bemused by her sudden anger. "No, it doesn't. You've heard the news the same as anyone else – there's nothing left over there. The village was torn down and everyone who remained there was slaughtered. The only part of Whirlpool that's left is you and the other survivors, and they're happy to be part of Konoha, so why aren't you?"

Hot tears stood out in her eyes. "You're a pig!" she raged. "A horrible, horrible beast! Forget these lessons – I don't want to see you again! I don't want to be part of Konoha if it's full of people like you!"

"But-"

"Leave me alone!" she turned and ran away down the alley, disappearing into the bright sunshine of the street beyond.

Minato stood, stumped and dismayed, but steadily growing irritated. _Typical_, he thought. Just as she was showing promise beneath this well preserved front of the village idiot, she had to blow another fuse and retreat on all the progress they'd made. Girls! They were such an overly emotional waste of time.

At least he figured he knew at least one person who would sympathise.

* * *

"-and then she just ran off, shouting that she never wanted to see me again. Sensei, I don't think I can teach her anything. She doesn't want to be a part of Konoha. All I did was tell her the truth and she just blew up."

"Mm." His sensei wasn't really attending. They were both crouched behind the chimney pots of a civilian house, and though Minato had nothing better to do than pick at the lichen on the roof tiles, Jiraiya was peering around the corner with a small handheld periscope.

The women's bathhouse was just a few hundred metres away on the other side of the roof.

"I don't know what to do. Should I go after her?" Minato asked.

"Oh, yes. Never give up on a lady, Minato. Half the thrill is in the chase. Oh, that's right, madam, stretch up those arms nice and high," Jiraiya chuckled, jotting something down in his notebook.

"... I'm not seeing where the thrill is here," Minato said slowly. "I can't say anything to her without getting my head bitten off."

"Probably because you're not being very sensitive."

"What?"

After a moment Jiraiya took his eye away from the periscope and returned to lean back against the chimney beside him. His wooden geta shoes clacked against the terracotta tiles beneath them. "What was it you said to her again?"

"Just that she doesn't have a village left anymore-"

"Ah, yes, and that all the people who didn't get out were slaughtered," his teacher repeated, "which almost certainly included her parents. Right? She was an orphan when she arrived, wasn't she?"

"Yes, but..." Minato hedged, feeling cold and clumsy all of a sudden. "I was only trying to tell her that she can't keep scorning this village forever. It's the only home she's got now."

"Also very true," Jiraiya agreed. "But try to make her see that fact without mentioning slaughter or making it sound like she has to sacrifice her Whirlpool identity. Imagine if Konoha was invaded and destroyed tomorrow and you got out but I, your beloved sensei, didn't. Wouldn't it horrify you for someone to speak so flippantly of my death and demand you give up all hope and attachment to Konoha?"

Minato thought for a moment. "You'd never die."

"Humour me."

"I guess... I was a little insensitive," he sighed, slowly resolving himself to finding her and apologising. He didn't know what he'd do if Konoha up and disappeared tomorrow, and though he didn't really understand what it was like to lose parents since his father was still lingering on bitterly and he didn't really remember his mother, the thought of losing his sensei was painful. It couldn't have been easy for Kushina, to lose everything. Even if he thought she had chosen a very unnecessarily negative way of dealing with her predicament, he knew he had to go easy on her.

Jiraiya was laughing again. "See? Girls aren't so hard to understand."

"I thought you said they exist to confuse us."

"They do, but when you're as, ah, _experienced _as me with the fairer sex you learn how their minds work, and you're learning from a master. You'll be a regular little ladies man soon enough."

"Why would I want to be a lady-man?" Minato asked tiredly.

"No, a ladies-man, Minato. And _that's _why," his sensei said, suddenly seizing him by the shoulders and pulling him up to point over the chimney. "Behold! Perfection!"

He said it so loudly, all twenty heads of the naked women bathers turned in their direction with a mixture of surprise, horror and rage. Mostly rage. After a few startled seconds of silence, during which Minato could have sworn his nose started to run, the women began shouting obscenities and grabbing everything close to hand to throw at them. Some of them were ninja and their aims were deadly accurate. All of a sudden student and teacher were slipping and sliding away down the roof tiles while a hail of soap, rocks, and buckets rained down around them.

Minato landed first on the street and flung himself back to take shelter in a doorway. Laughing, Jiraiya landed after him and grinned. "Oh, hey, did you get hit? Sorry about that, I thought you knew when to duck by now."

"Ah." Minato wiped the stream of blood under his nose, pretty sure he hadn't been hit at all. "I need to go find Kushina."

"Best of luck, my boy! Remember what your master said and she'll be putty in your hands."

But not for the first time Minato had the mutinous that if his sensei knew half as much about women as he claimed, they wouldn't always be throwing stuff at him.

Rubbing his nose on his sleeve, he ran away through the streets, intending to find Kushina and put things to right. The fact that he didn't know where she lived wasn't a problem. Like the other orphan refugees from Whirlpool, she would have been housed with the social service centre when she arrived. Although it was doubtful she was still staying there, they would at least know where she had been placed.

The centre was a little run-down, fronted by a yard that was filled mostly with gravel and broken toys that were bleached with years of outdoor use. As always, the door was wide open for lack of air conditioning, and a smell wafted through it like something pretty unpalatable was being cooked inside. Minato went right inside, passing through narrow, badly lit corridors with damp, peeling walls that probably hadn't been painted for fifty years.

He nearly jumped when a young woman opened the door he was passing. She jumped a little too, and stared at him through her spectacles. "Ah... are you one of the new boys?" she asked uncertainly, clearly trying to remember if she should know him.

"No, I'm just looking for someone," he said. "There's this girl called Kushina-"

"Oh. Her."

He'd been fully prepared to launch into a detailed description of what she looked like and where she came from and why he wanted to know where she'd been placed, but apparently the woman knew exactly who he meant and just jerked her hand at him, hinting he should follow her. He did, and as they headed deeper into the centre he began to hear the sound of laughing and shouting children, and that awful smell got stronger. It smelled liking burning beans.

The woman pushed through a set of swinging doors and held it open for him, and Minato found himself stepping into an extremely noisy dining hall. He hadn't realised there were so many homeless, orphaned children in Konoha, but from the snippets of voices he could make out, most appeared to have a Whirlpool accent. They were refugees.

"She's over there," said the woman, pointing to one of the emptiest tables where a lone figure sat stirring a spoon around her bowl. Minato looked over the same time she looked up, and Kushina stiffened to see him. It was hard to say who was more surprised. Minato hadn't actually thought she'd still be in the social services centre after her arrival almost two years ago.

Suddenly Kushina stood up from the table, grabbed her bowl, and disappeared through a set of doors on the other side of the hall.

"She's in a funny mood today," she warned, "and considering it's Kushina, that's saying something. Are you a friend from school?"

"No," Minato said automatically, because never once had he considered their antagonistic relationship even close to resembling the kind of friendship he had with others. And then he felt a little bad, because he knew that he was probably the closest thing to a friend in Kushina's eyes. "Actually," he added. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Well, if you can cheer her up, that would be great," she said, and told him how to get to the dormitory where Kushina had probably gone. She couldn't take him there since she'd spotted a fight breaking out between two whirlpool boys and had to rush over to break it up before everyone got splattered with bean stew.

Minato left the dining hall and followed the woman's directions. Sure enough, after going up one flight of stairs he came to a large room lined with almost thirty wire-framed beds, and in the middle of one of the beds he found someone sitting with a white sheet pulled up over her head, finishing her dinner. She ignored him as he entered, pretending that if she couldn't see him then he couldn't possibly see her either.

Gingerly, he sat down on the bed beside hers and felt the springs creak and sag beneath him.

"I wouldn't sit on Tori's bed, if I were you," she said, from beneath her sheet. "He's a bed-wetter."

Minato stood quickly.

"And don't even think of sitting on my bed," she warned.

He hadn't been planning on it. "Is this where you live?" he said, probably a little unwisely, because Kushina's spoon clacked loudly against her bowl like she thinking about throwing them at him.

"Sorry we can't all live in palaces like _you_," she snapped.

She'd clearly never seen his house. But although he'd never thought of his house as a den of luxury, he was beginning to think maybe it was compared to living in this place. And at least he had a chest full of toys and a wardrobe full of clothes, a window of his own and a soft bed. All Kushina had was a cardboard box under her cot with her name on the side, filled with one teddy, a couple of mismatched colouring pens and a thin stack of playing cards.

"Well," he began, dragging his gaze away from her meagre possessions. "I just... I didn't think you lived at the centre."

"I told you I didn't have a home."

"Aren't they supposed to find you one?"

"What do you want? Did you just come round to laugh at me 'cause I live here because you didn't laugh it up enough that my village was destroyed?"

"I never laughed," he denied, fidgeting awkwardly. "I came to say I'm sorry..."

She cussed at him using words he'd never heard anyone but his sensei use when he was drunk and crashing into things. The bowl of bean stew dropped on the floor and Kushina hurled herself sideways down on the bed, the sheet floating down on top of her like a death shroud. Minato looked uncertainly at the lumpy shape she presented, wondering if she was even open to apologies at this point.

"I don't think I was very kind," he went on carefully. "I didn't mean it like I said it, though... I was just trying to say that _for__now_, at least, what's left of Whirlpool exists in Konoha. Maybe one day they'll rebuild it, but for now can't you accept that this is your home? And... and if _you_ want to help rebuild Whirlpool again, then you're going to have to become a great ninja, and that's what I'm trying to help you achieve. I'm not trying to make you into a Konoha citizen, I just want you to be able to grow, and then you can be whatever you want to be."

The lump beneath the sheet was silent. He wasn't even sure she was breathing.

"Right?" he asked. "Kushina? Please let me continue tutoring you? And if you really hate me then you won't ever have to see me again once you pass."

"You're an idiot," she said quietly. "You have friends, don't you? That awful skinny girl and that quiet fat boy? I've seen you laughing and playing baseball with that guy who punches me, and those girls who pulled my hair. Everyone likes you. And you're graduated so you could be out taking missions with your team. You could be doing _anything_ you want right now, and I know you hate having to be with me, so why are you bothering? I'm telling you to go away. So just go."

"I don't hate being with you," he said quickly, because it _wasn't_ true at all. She was tedious and frustrating and hard to talk to, but he didn't hate being around her.

"You're a liar too."

A sudden heat flashed through him like an electric shock, making his head feel unpleasant and tingly. "Well, you're-!" he exploded, struggling to articulate his anger. "You're not even nice! I've tried so many times to be friends with you, but you're always so rude no matter what I do!"

He subsided as soon as he said it. He hated getting angry, and he could count the number of times he'd shouted at someone on his left hand. Anger always made him feel sick and tongue-tied, and now he was shaking.

So was Kushina. She'd curled into a tighter lump beneath the covers and he could hear her making gasping little breathy sounds that made him feel even worse. "I _know_ I'm not! I can't help it! I'm sorry I can't be like you who's so nice even the horrible people are nice back."

Now he was sorry he'd ever mentioned it. "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is. I used to be like those other girls before... and then... I realised it was so pointless. I used to have so many friends, but now I can't even keep one – and I don't _want_ friends! I don't even want to be a great ninja! I just want my Mom!"

She dissolved into sobs, clutching the sheets hard around her head as her body shook. "Why did they take her?" she cried, her voice strained and breaking. "She wasn't fighting them, they didn't need to hurt her! Now I'll never see her again! It's not fair, it's not fair, _it's not fair!_"

She started to scream. Minato took a step away from the bed, alarmed. Was he supposed to comfort her? Shout for help? He tried placing a hand on her back but she savagely jerked, trying to shake him off, inconsolable with grief and anger.

"I lost my mom too," he told her, over her sobs. "I know what it's like."

Kushina surged upright, the sheet flying away to reveal her red, tear-stained face. "Did you watch her get dragged away by a gang of Reformers? Did you have to crawl through a pit of dead bodies for two days until you found her again?"

"N-No," he stammered. "She died when I was born."

"Then you know _nothing!_" she screamed at him. "If you _have_ nothing, you don't know what it's like to lose it!"

He couldn't think of what to say to this, only he thought she was probably right. He supposed it was worse to know and love a mother and lose her violently than to not even remember her enough to miss her.

"That's why I want nothing... I don't want new parents, I don't want a new home, I don't want a new village, and I don't want new friends. I want _nothing_. Then _nothing_ can be taken away again."

"But... what's the point in living if you don't have anything to love?" he asked.

She glowered at him.

"You're right, I don't know what it's like for you. You've probably had it harder than most of us in Konoha can understand, but I _want_ to understand. I don't think it's right for anyone to be alone."

"What do you know?" she said scornfully, throwing herself down to press her face into his pillow.

"I know what it's like to be alone," he said.

She scoffed, voice muffled. "You have a million friends."

"They like me because I'm a genius, that's all. If I wasn't, they'd have nothing to do with me. I don't know any of them that well and I'd definitely never invite them over to my house. My sensei is the only person I can really talk to, but he's one of the jonin, so he's always busy. He leaves the village for weeks and months sometimes. I _know_ what it's like to hurt and have no one to turn to."

"So?" she said sullenly.

"So... I don't know." He sighed. He'd argued and defended his point, but he didn't know what it was anymore. He was just glad she'd stopped crying. "I don't really remember my mom, but I still like to think that she's still here watching me."

"Don't be stupid," she grumbled. "Only babies believe in ghosts."

"No, I don't think she's a ghost. I don't even think she's really watching me at all, but I pretend that she is. I do everything the best I can because I want to do the things that would make her happy and proud of me if she was still here. So even if she's gone for good, I still kinda owe it to her to be the kind of person she probably wanted me to be."

Kushina sniffed but said nothing.

"What do you suppose your mother would think if she could see you now?"

She pounced back up to give him a shocking shove that sent him reeling back onto the bed-wetter's mattress. He sincerely hoped they'd changed the sheets that morning already.

"Don't," she snarled, "pretend you know my mother! If she was looking down on me, she'd want me to be sad! Because she's dead! Everyone wants people to be sad when they die!"

"What, forever?" Minato asked, picking himself up.

She looked uncertain. "Obviously not, but..." she ran out of words.

He tilted his head on one side and watched her curiously fight her mixed feelings. Perhaps he'd gotten through to her; perhaps he hadn't. All he knew was that he'd done all he could. "Well, if you want to become a great kunoichi and give her something interesting to watch, I'll be waiting by the river near the gazebo tomorrow, same time as usual."

He waited for her to say something, but when all she did was glare glumly at the floor, he parted with another sigh and left. And for once instead of going to hang around the park with the other boys, or to the ice cream shop owned by Ai's mother (who was ten times kinder than her daughter and never failed to give Minato free samples of the latest flavours), he headed home. His father was out at work and the house seemed even quieter and more gloomy than it usually did, but for once Minato looked at it and appreciated that he didn't have to share a room with thirty other kids and various bed-wetters.

And when he set off the next morning for the river, he was once again unsure of what he'd find when he got there. The gazebo stood on a small artificial island in the middle of the river, and that was where Minato waited, shoes beside him and feet dangling in the water. The usual time he met Kushina was around nine-o'clock, but the hour slipped by as uneventfully as the leaves floating past on the river's current. Minato began to grow bored. It was looking more and more likely that he'd failed to convince Kushina after all, and he'd have to go tell his sensei and probably the Hokage too who'd probably re-evaluate any previous thought he might have had that Minato was fit to be his successor. And then Minato wondered if he cared. Being Hokage was Jiraiya-sensei's idea, not his own, as he was only currently concerned with becoming a ninja... and this thing called puberty that people kept warning him would be coming soon and would do horrible, horrible things to his body.

Picking up his shoes, he stepped out onto the water, using chakra to walk on the slippery, moving surface. He couldn't wait here all day; he was going to find his team and join their training. He knew that he should have been relieved – rid of Kushina, he was free to pursue his own interests again.

But he didn't feel relieved. He didn't even feel happy. He felt only that he'd let someone down who possibly, or all the people he knew, needed help the most.

"Can you teach me to do that?"

He turned sharply to the bank where a scruffy-haired red-head sat, arms around her knees.

"Oh," was all he could think to say. "I didn't think you'd come."

She shrugged and looked away from him like it was no big deal, but he realised that to both of them, it _was._

"Sure, I can teach you," he said, smiling. "It's easy once you know how."

* * *

The remaining weeks of the summer passed a little more quickly than he anticipated until there was only a week left until Kushina had to go to the academy to retake her tests. He remained a little worried about her lack of basic jutsu, but he had to remind himself that compared to the beginning of the summer, she had improved a hell of a lot, even if the biggest change had only been in her attitude.

As long as he'd been sure to incorporate her elemental affinity into her techniques, she was willing to learn them, even if it was absurd that this meant she picked up something so advanced and specialised as creating wind clones before she'd mastered a simple henge jutsu. Minato had no idea what this meant for her exams.

But most of all he was just glad that she appeared to enjoy their sessions a little more, and even he was finding it more challenging than he'd anticipated, what with having to _invent_ brand new wind based jutsu just to satisfy Kushina's picky requirements. Half the lessons together consisted of Minato himself trying to figure out how to enhance a kawarimi jutsu with the wind element before Kushina would deign to learn it, and she laughed very quickly at his expense whenever he failed. He didn't mind so much. It was probably the only time she smiled.

He even started taking some of Jiraiya's advice as a sensei, and tried to find ways of rewarding his temperamental student whenever she succeeded. Positive reinforcement, his sensei said, was the path to a happy student who was eager to please. Kushina, on the other hand, always found his attempts to reward her highly suspect.

"Why are you buying me ice cream?" she said, frowning at the banana split that Ai's mother had placed on the bar before her.

"Because we made good progress today, and I really fancy ice cream," he said. He didn't want to explicitly say he was rewarding her. Knowing Kushina, she'd take that as patronising and more evidence of his superiority complex over her, and with just a week left until the exams, he couldn't afford her taking off in another huff.

But he also got the feeling that Kushina didn't actually like ice cream that much. So the next day when she pulled off a near flawless taijutsu kata with far fewer useless flourishes than usual, he asked her, "Are you hungry? Where'd you like to eat?"

She just stared at him blankly for a moment, as if scrutinising the question for criticism or ulterior motives. Then she said, "I like ramen."

"Ichiraku do nice ramen," he said. "Let's go there."

In truth, Minato didn't really like ramen at all. It was watery and bland and he always felt a little sick after a bowl of the stuff, but it was worth it to see Kushina sitting beside him, guzzling down mouthful after mouthful with a pink glow of happiness about her cheeks.

And as he was looking at her he noticed something. "What happened to your hitai-ate?" he asked. For as long as he'd known her, she'd always worn it, even when the ribbon was down to its last shreds.

Kushina reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled it out to show him, though now it was nothing more than a metal plate with the Whirlpool symbol engraved on it. The ribbon had deteriorated completely, and even the plate itself was so scratched it no longer shone and rust was beginning to set in around the edges. "Don't get too happy," she told him. "Just because I'm willing to take the Konoha exams doesn't mean I'm going to give this thing up."

"Why don't you get a new one engraved?" he asked. "It looks like it's on its last legs."

She slipped it back into his pocket. "It was my mother's."

"Oh, it was a present?"

"No," she said simply, looking sourly at her noodles, joy gone from her cheeks. "I lost mine when I escaped the house. So when I went to the grave..."

She'd taken it off her mother's body.

Minato began to wonder if he had a problem – his foot _would_ keep finding its way into his mouth. It was so difficult to get Kushina to smile, and it only took one misguided question to turn her back into a sharp little stone. He wanted to make it up to her, and he was beginning to get an idea of how...

Another issue that seemed to bother her was the fact that he was the one who always paid for the ice cream or the ramen. It wasn't like he had a lot of money to throw around, but he knew Kushina didn't have any at all. He didn't want to draw attention to the fact, but every time it came to paying the bill, it was a forcible reminder of just how different their circumstances were.

That would all change once she passed her exams. He wondered if she was a little nervous, or even keen to pass. It was hard to tell with Kushina. He only noticed in those last couple of days before the day of the exam, she seemed to be concentrating twice as hard and listening as if she cared about his advice.

On the evening before the exams, they went through a mock trial of all the things she'd be expected to perform. Her henge could have been better, but surely the fact that she could slice open a wall would be taken into consideration when marking her?

"I think you'll pass," he said, because although he wasn't sure, he knew often the greatest asset of all was confidence, even if it was false. "You've really nailed some of these techniques."

"I guess," she said, sitting down against the wall and stirring up a lot of dust in this abandoned shop they'd commandeered for practice. She was out of breath and flushed, and quite obviously tired. Although Minato had been putting in just as much effort, he remained standing, not a hair out of place. This, however, wasn't a bad sign for her chances tomorrow; as a benchmark Namikaze Minato set the standard pretty high.

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said elusively, and her caginess meant she probably was a little bit. As difficult as Kushina could be, he'd never seen her this tense.

Suddenly she stopped breathing, her hand in her pocket.

He cocked his head at her. "What is it?"

"My hitai-ate," she said patting down her jacket frantically. "It's gone."

She stood abruptly, forgetting her fatigue in an instant to smash her palms against every pocket in her clothing. When this yielded nothing, she began to turn on the spot, head darting from side to side as she looked about. "I must have dropped it while we were... where's it gone? I have to find it. Where is it?"

"It's ok, don't worry. I'm sure it'll turn up," he told her.

"No, I have to find it!"

They looked all over the old shop, in every room they'd practised in, and even a few they hadn't. There were a lot of old boxes and other junk piled up against the walls, and plenty of nooks and crannies for a metal plate to have fallen into and gotten lost, but though they searched for over thirty minutes, they found nothing.

Kushina was very upset. Minato looked at her and wondered if she was about to cry. "Maybe you left it at the centre?" he suggested.

"No, I _had_ it when we arrived here," she said angrily. "It has to be here."

"But the light's going," he pointed out, and with the windows half boarded up, the late evening light was fading twice as fast inside the abandoned shop. "We'll look tomorrow."

"My test is tomorrow."

"Then we'll look after the test. You'll get it back, Kushina, I promise."

She swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, then she nodded grudgingly. She was willing to believe him for now, though it was difficult to convince her to go home and get some rest in preparation for tomorrow; she wanted to come back with a torch and search all night if she had to.

And maybe that was what she did, because when he greeted her the next morning outside the gates of the academy, she looked red around the eyes and pale around the lips. "You don't look very fresh," he remarked to her.

"Neither do you," she accused.

He shifted uncomfortably. "I was busy last night," was all he could tell her.

The examiners arrived. Jiraiya arrived too, for this was also a test of Minato's skills as a teacher. And then shortly after that, even the Hokage appeared with his ever-present entourage. With every new arrival, Kushina grew paler and paler. It seemed that, to her, it was a relief when the examiners beckoned for her to follow them into the academy. Everyone else waited outside.

Minato, a little shy of the Hokage, made sure to stand where Jiraiya was between them, but that didn't seem to help. "Do you feel she's improved under you tutelage, my boy?" the Sandaime asked him, leaning down to address him.

"Maybe. A little. I hope." He wasn't really sure what to say. He hated when he sounded like was boasting, and though he preferred not to make any hasty exaggerations of Kushina's improvement, he couldn't deny that she had improved a lot. Was it fair to take credit for that? Everyone thought Kushina was stupid, and Kushina had been too proud to condescend to Konoha ways and prove otherwise, but almost everything she was now going to show those examiners were things she'd already known. All Minato had done was try to show her that she could keep the ways she'd learned in Whirlpool and try to mix it with the things they'd taught her in Konoha. It hadn't taken much talent on his behalf... it had simply been the case that after a while, Kushina had been willing to listen to him in a way she'd never listened to the instructors.

So perhaps Jiraiya was right. As paltry as Kushina's attempts at friendliness were, it was possibly the case that she liked Minato more than anyone else in the village.

He waited anxiously, biting his lip and listening to the adults talking idly between themselves. How was Kushina doing in there, he wondered? Had they asked her to perform a henge yet? If they had, had she gotten the face right? Faces were always her weakest point.

Only fifteen minutes later, Kushina emerged from the academy with the instructors. He searched her face as she approached for any sign of joy or sadness that might indicate if she'd passed or not, but her face was carefully neutral. She stopped a few feet from him, looking back at his expression stolidly.

"Well?" he asked, looking from her to the examiners for a clue.

Kushina turned slightly and pointed to the black band tied around her upper arm. The symbol of the leaf glinted on the metal plate sewn into it.

"You did it!" he cried, grinning broadly, and she smiled faintly in return.

"Well done, I knew you could do it!" Jiraiya said, though it was Minato's shoulder he clapped and Minato he smiled at.

"Congratulations, my girl," the Hokage said after a brief word with the examiners. "They tell me you passed with flying colours – above average, I daresay. Minato, that's quite an achievement, but you better be careful. If you get too good at this we'll be asking you to tutor the rest of your summers away."

His entourage was smiling too and trading knowing looks with one another. They murmured their own praises and commented once more that they would continue to be interested in his progress. Hands patted his head and his shoulders. Someone shook his hand. He blushed and bore it, and when his eyes found Kushina again, she seemed to be standing so far away, and no longer smiling. No one was patting her on the head, or taking her by the hand. Unnoticed by everyone else, she was beginning to turn, about to walk away.

Minato slid away from the adults who were now talking amongst themselves and jogged to intercept her. "Congratulations," he said. "You did it all yourself, whatever they think."

"Whatever," she said, as if she didn't care what anyone thought. Although from the way her eyes were a little bright, he doubted this attitude was an honest one.

"I got you a present," he said, reaching into his pouch to show her what he'd been working on last night.

Her mouth dropped open and she stilled when she saw it. "My... my hitai-ate!" she whispered.

But unlike before, it had been re-laid upon a new, pristine white strip and its dull, scratched-up surface had been oiled and cleaned of rust. Kushina's hand hovered above it, as if she was afraid to take it. Then suddenly her jaw clenched and that hand curled into a fist. The next thing he knew, she'd thumped him in the stomach the exact same way she had when they'd first met.

Her punches were as hard as ever...

Winded, he dropped to the ground. The adults stopped talking and looked over.

"You beast!" she cried, furious tears running down her face. "You took it from me! I was worried sick, I searched all night! I thought I'd lost it forever, you – you-" She took a deep shaking breath. "You even got the rust off..."

"I fixed it for you," he rasped, pushing himself gingerly to his feet again. "So now you can wear both. Konoha and Whirlpool. Together. Right?"

Big wet eyes widened on him.

"Here." He reached out, pressing the plate over her forehead and reaching over her shoulders to tie the ribbon into a secure knot behind her head. The white ribbon suited her. Her scruffy red bangs seemed all the more vibrant next to it.

When he stepped back, he prepared for another punch, as she'd done the first time he'd put her hitai-ate back on after the academy bullies had thrown it up on the bakery roof. But this time her face had crumpled slightly with tears she was determined to hold back. "Thank you," she said, though she whispered it so quietly he hardly heard her.

Then very suddenly she threw herself at him. For a split second he thought he was under attack, until he realised she was only hugging him. A lot of girls did that to him, but for Kushina to do it was a shock to still most beating hearts. He took a sharp breath and inhaled a mouthful of red hair.

She drew back quickly. "Sorry," she said, red-faced and touching the hair he'd almost choked on. "I need to cut it."

"No, it's ok," he said, still getting over the shock of being embraced, and trying to ignore how his sensei was leering at him, eyebrows waggling. "I like it long."

And little did he know that from that day forward, Uzumaki Kushina vowed never to cut her hair again.

* * *

TBC


	3. A Test of Courage

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Three: A Test of Courage

* * *

At age twelve, the world was at Namikaze Minato's feet, and it was a world of lost pets, tedious escorts, and hand harvesting rice; for this was the nature of most D-class missions. Ai moaned endlessly, complaining that their talents were being wasted, and Saburou said nothing as usual. Minato, however, enjoyed every minute of it. Although he knew he was capable of taking higher class missions and knew that his sensei was wheedling away at the Hokage to allow him to accept a few C class scrolls, Minato was content with whatever was doled out. Yes, finding lost pets was a little insulting for ninja, but he liked animals and he loved hide-and-seek, so it was an afternoon of fun and games as far as he was concerned. And yes, being employed by short-staffed farmers who needed their rice crops brought in was a menial but physically demanding task requiring little skill and a spine of steel, but patience was another virtue that shinobi had to master, and he saw the days out on the majestic paddies as close to spiritual honing as he was likely to get.

Most of all he enjoyed the escort missions. The clients came in all shapes and sizes and numbers and their only request was to get safely from point A to point B. Minato liked these missions because for the first time in his life he was being allowed to travel extensively outside the village, and he had to the opportunity to learn the layout and landscape of the fire country: to the north were the mountains, to the west were the rainforests, and in the east lay the swamps while the south boasted the most fantastic beaches. But mostly he liked how long it took them away from Konoha. It was a joy to go to sleep ever night in a tent beside his sensei, eat breakfast with his teammates, and play games with them to pass the time as they travelled through the day. He was never lonely. He certainly never felt homesick.

Sometimes he thought he would be glad to get home again and see his other friends and sleep in the comfort of his own bed. But one cold silent evening around the dinner table with his father was enough to remind him that sleeping on the cold ground was a small price to pay to get away from such stifling silence.

But as small as Minato's world was at twelve, it was rapidly expanding. Genin were not normally brought into war, and if they were it was only to handle tasks on the periphery where there was no contact with the enemy. But Konoha had, for a long time, been at war with Kumo and Ame, and tensions were deepening as battles became more embittered.

Soon their team was being tasked with missions closer to the contended borders. Most of the time it was just a matter of taking messages back and forth as quickly as possible, and it wasn't nearly as easy as it sounded. One of the enemy's biggest priorities was to intercept the communication of the opposition, and sometimes messengers disappeared between the village and the border. More than once Minato had fought off much older and larger enemy nin who thought taking a scroll from him would be as easy as stealing candy from a baby. He disliked killing, and he avoided it when he could, but Jiraiya had cautioned him that mercy at the wrong time would be his greatest weakness.

By the time he was thirteen, he'd already killed eleven men.

Since he would not brag about this, Ai did it for him whenever the young teenage genin congregated around the bridge to loiter, kick stones, flirt, and trade mission stories.

"What do they look like when they die?" asked a pale blond boy called Inoichi who had a rather gruesome thirst for details.

"I hear your eyes bug out and your tongue swells up when you get killed. Is that true?"

"What did your first time feel like?"

Minato shrugged. He hadn't really thought about these questions before or the subjects. His first time had felt like nothing. The man had been alive one moment and then he'd stopped moving and breathing and he'd been dead, but Minato had felt very little; neither sadness nor relief, and not even shock. It was the seventh man he'd killed that had perturbed him, as this was the first time he'd killed a man attempting to retreat. He'd felt a little bad about that. But as for what it looked like? Sometimes their eyes bugged out. Sometimes they went purple in the face before they stopped moving. Sometimes their bowels opened and it was deeply unpleasant to watch, but other times it was almost like they had just fainted, cleanly, neatly, without ever knowing what was happening until they were gone.

"Isn't it scary, fighting with people who might kill you?" asked Mikoto, a young kunoichi from the Uchiha clan.

Ai slung her arm around his shoulders so roughly that he swayed and staggered. "Why should he worry when he's got me to look out for him?" she laughed.

"Are you two going out or something?" Inoichi asked, pointing at them sceptically.

"Ew, don't be gross," Ai pulled a face at him. "He's going out with that awful girl, whatserface."

"Kagura," Minato sighed. "Usui Kagura."

"Wait, wait – Kagura from Sakumo-sensei's team? The one who went out with Big J?"

"Have you done it yet?"

"Inoichi!" Ai screeched. "Pervert!"

"What? It's a fair question?"

Minato shrugged. "We hold hands sometimes," he said.

"So you haven't even kissed her yet?"

"We've only been going out a month."

"You've been going out a month and you _still_ haven't kissed her?"

Minato helplessly shrugged again. To be honest, he was only going out with Kagura because she'd asked and he sort of liked her and thought she was pretty, but the dating ritual still left him bemused. It seemed pointless. They didn't get to see each other much, and when they did have the time to get together it was embarrassing because the moment anyone saw them together they would be teased and jeered mercilessly. He couldn't go over to her house because she thought her family was embarrassing, and he definitely didn't want her coming over to his house because his father was excruciating.

"I heard she did it with Big J already," Inoichi said, to a round of sniggers.

"Oh, right, according to J?" Ai snorted. "He's a big fat liar. He said he did a C-class mission all by himself, but that turned out to be bullshit too."

"And he said he felt up that whirlpool girl with the big tits. As if," Inoichi agreed.

"Oh, no, _that_ was true. How else do you think he broke his arm?"

"Worth it, though," said Inoichi. "I'd risk a broken arm too just for a chance to squeeze those lovelies-"

"Pervert," Ai hissed. "Anyway, that bitch will break your arm as soon as look at you. She's horrible."

"She's not horrible," Minato said quietly.

"Oh, I forgot. You _looove_ her, don't you?" Ai rolled her eyes at him. "I hope Kagura knows you're two-timing her with that whirlpool slut."

"Is that true? You fancy Uzumaki?" Inoichi smirked. "Really?"

"I don't think she's horrible, that's all. I don't fancy all the people I don't think are horrible," said Minato, his ears feeling unusually warm.

"And they're even on the _same_ team," Ai went on, ignoring him. "How _awkward!"_

"And look, here they come now."

Minato glanced over his shoulder and realised why the subject of his girlfriend and Kushina had been foisted on him so abruptly – they were coming down the road towards the bridge, accompanied by their sensei and the third member of their team. They must have been returning from a mission, since they were all, save for Sakumo-sensei, walking in a weary, weaving sort of way, all bowed under the weight of the backpacks they were carrying.

Kagura looked up and seemed to instantly rejuvenate when she saw Minato. She straightened and waved, and broke into a jog to catch up to the group on the bridge before the rest of her team. "What are you guys up to?"

And, as if none of them had been speculating at all on whether or not she'd put out for 'Big J', they shrugged and smiled blandly back at her. Inoichi was smiling a little more broadly than anyone else, and this was because _he_ wished he was the one going out with Kagura, but being pretty and popular meant it was hard to find a window of opportunity between one boyfriend and the next. "You just got back from a mission?" Minato asked, letting her take his hands and sway them from side to side, regardless of the sniggers behind them.

"Yeah, it was a nightmare," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"How come?" he asked.

"Three guesses," she muttered, and glanced towards her team - or more specifically, towards Kushina.

Minato didn't know exactly what had happened, but he could make a pretty good guess that it had involved a lot of mud, since a lot of mud had involved itself with Kushina. She was caked in the stuff, from the tip of her toes to her elbows. It was in her hair, on her face, and her culottes had probably changed colour completely and would never be the same again. Minato watched her in amazement, but she didn't even spare him a glance as she passed.

She rarely did when there were others around.

"Oi, Kushina," Inoichi called, "how can you stand straight with those things?"

Beside him, Ai made a gesture like she was juggling two watermelons in front of her chest.

Kushina neither paused nor looked at any of them; she just kept walking. The abuse seemed a little unwarranted, however, Minato thought. Although it was hard to tell because she insisted on wearing baggy, shapeless clothes, her breasts didn't seem _that_ big... although it seemed like only yesterday she'd been as flat as _him_. She was an early and very fast bloomer, and unfortunately for her, this singled her out even more as a target of male fascination and female envy, and either way this manifested in nasty ways.

But of course, as Sakumo-sensei passed, Inoichi and Ai were full of nothing but angelical smiles. He was one of the scarier teachers: tall, with long white hair pulled into a pony-tail and a faint limp, a lot of the genin thought this jonin was some kind of reformed bandit, especially when he was wearing his mask.

"Don't you kids have training to do?" he grunted, glaring suspiciously at then as if he knew their every sin just by glancing at them. "Kagura. Get a move on."

Kagura hastily dropped Minato's hands and hurried away. Not for the first time Minato was glad his sensei was pleasant and easy-going and not at all like Hatake Sakumo, and he wondered if Kushina was happy being part of his team. He'd have to ask next time he saw her, though who knew when that would be.

This was how it was for all the academy children. Once you graduated, you were split up into teams under a jonin teacher if you weren't already, and then you began taking separate missions. There were some classmates he hadn't even _seen_ since the academy days. Although he'd been pleasantly surprised by Kushina, he'd never been certain of where they stood. Were they friends? Just acquaintances? As soon as she'd been placed within her own team, she'd been whisked away, and the sudden absence of her company after a summer full of it left him feeling a little insecure. He'd approached her team during practice once, but she'd been so cold towards him in the presence of others that it was Kagura he ended up chatting with more easily and fluently until he gave up bothering since visiting Kushina during training because it was becoming more a matter of visiting Kagura instead.

It was easier when he caught her on her own. When there were no other people around she suddenly seemed to notice him and respond, even if it never with much warmth. No matter what he did, she was always wary of him, as if she suspected every overture of pleasantness on his part to be part of some underhanded plan to humiliate her. He'd talked about that with Jiraiya-sensei, who had said that people like Kushina who were teased a lot tended not to trust others so easily, though Minato felt that her standoffish attitude and weird manners brought her a lot of unnecessary grief, that in turn made her even more weird and introverted, which brought on more teasing, and so on, in a vicious circle.

It made it seem all the more important to be nice to her, but it was quite difficult when he got the feeling she was doing her best to avoid him on some days. She probably didn't care that much about their friendship as his sensei insisted. Perhaps Kushina had never really liked him that much and now she was just glad to be free of him. Their brief friendship of sorts was over, and now she was just another of his many casual acquaintances who over time faded away...

At least, that was what he warned himself the case might be, and that didn't explain the ludicrous swell of pleasure he felt in his middle when, later that same day, he was resting beneath a brick wall near the training grounds and Kushina's face appeared, peeping down at him over the top of the wall. Granted, she nearly gave him a heart attack at the same time, but mostly he was glad to see her. And with no one else around, there was no one to chase her off.

"Minato," she said, "Kagura says you killed someone last week."

"Yeah," he said, blowing a lock of hair off his sticky forehead. It was desperately hot that particular day.

"How many is that now?" she asked.

"Eleven."

"Weird," she said, pulling herself up and over the wall to drop down beside him. She still smelt strongly of bog mud, and a lot of it was still crusted in her shoes though she'd clearly made an effort to change her clothes and scrub it off her skin. He guessed she only had one pair of shoes after all. "What's it like?"

"What?" He'd been too busy examining her shoes to catch her meaning.

"To kill someone. What's it like?"

He'd already been asked this a thousand and one times by the other genin who had yet to experience it, and so far he'd been moved to act as everyone expected him to act – cool and indifferent. "I don't really like it," he said heavily, not caring if she thought him less than perfectly stoic, because who was Uzumaki Kushina going to tell about it? "Most of it was self-defence, and I did it without thinking, and at the time all I feel is relief and satisfaction. Then... I remember they're only people doing what they were told to do, like me."

Kushina watched his face intently. "Some people deserve to die though, don't they?"

"Do they?" he wondered.

"What about the Reformists?"

"Who are they?"

"The people who tried to take over my village. They killed loads of people because they didn't like how things were being run. If I tracked them down and killed them, I don't think I'd feel too guilty about it afterwards," she said decisively.

"Is that what you plan to do?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Nah. I can't remember what any of them look like anyway. But if anyone turns up to interfere when I start rebuilding the village, I'll give them what for."

Minato grinned, because he suddenly had an image in his head of feisty little Kushina lobbing planks of timber around, _literally_ rebuilding her village, brick by brick. The real Kushina scowled at him apprehensively. She always thought mirth was at her expense. "How do you plan to rebuild your village anyway?" he asked her. "You'd need to start having kids very early if you're going to repopulate it just by yourself."

"Children? Ew. If it's made nice again, people will return there of their own accord, won't they? And maybe it'll be so good that they'll make me kage!"

Minato could have pointed out that this was unlikely, as a kage usually had to be the strongest person in the village, and the village had to be one of the five great villages belonging to one of the five states controlled by a recognised daimyou – which Whirlpool never had been and would likely never be, even if by some miracle it was returned to its former glory. But being bluntly realistic with Kushina never went down well. Instead, he smiled and nodded, for even if Kushina would never be a kage, there was no harm in dreaming.

"You'll have to train hard under your sensei then," he told her.

"What do you take me for?" she asked hotly. "I've been learning loads with Sakumo-sensei. He's really cool and knows loads of stuff and he tells Kagura off all the time so-"

She stopped suddenly and bit her lip as a faint pink spread across her cheeks. Whatever she'd been planning to say was gulped down in an audible swallow.

"I heard he was really strict," Minato said.

Kushina was outraged that anyone could dare criticise her sensei. "Yeah, well Sakumo-sensei says Jiraiya-sensei isn't nearly strict enough."

Minato gasped. "There's no better teacher than Jiraiya-sensei!" he protested.

"_My_ sensei could kick _your_ sensei's ass any time!" Kushina declared, arms crossed in mighty defiance.

"Oh yeah – well... well..." Minato struggled for a comeback. Verbal battles were never his strongest point. "_My_ sensei was taught by the Hokage!"

"_Mine_ is better looking!"

"No, he isn't!"

"Yes, he is!"

"Oh, who cares about looks! It's all about how many missions they've-"

"Mine's done more."

"No, he hasn't!"

"Yes, he has!"

This girl really was infuriating. "You can't just say he has when he hasn't!" Minato cried. "I've seen the records. Jiraiya-sensei has-"

"The records are wrong," Kushina said dismissively, unrepentant in her disregard for logic or the increasing splutters issuing forth from Minato.

Any further debate on the matter was ended by a girlish holler from the other end of the pavement. They both looked over and saw Ai jogging down the path towards them. Minato stood to greet her, but was slightly shocked when – without seeming to notice Kushina – Ai threw her arms around his neck, suddenly enough to make him stagger. "There you are!" she cried gleefully. "Where have you been – I've been looking all over for you, you sneaky boy. Come on! I have to show you something."

Kushina seemed to melt against the wall, becoming more invisible next to Ai's vivaciousness. Minato caught her eye. "I'll see you later, ok?" he told her, because he was already being jostled along the path by his teammate who still didn't seem to have noticed she'd interrupted anything.

With a small nod and a stony face, Kushina scuttled back over the wall and out of sight.

With Kushina gone, Ai transformed as she dragged him away along the pavement. No longer grinning, she turned to look back at the place where the other girl had disappeared as if to check she was really gone. She didn't drop her arm from around Minato's neck. "Why do you hang out with her?" she asked critically.

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked, genuinely wanting to know.

"Uh, hello? She makes you look bad."

"Oh."

"So ditch her and start hanging out with you _real_ friends, Minato," she jostled him again. That was the problem with her being a little taller. Despite being ten times as lethal as her, she always treated him like a little kid.

"I'm not worried if I look bad," he said.

"What if I tell Kagura you're spending more time with the immigrant than with her?"

"So I can't have female friends if I'm going out with a girl?"

"Pretty much."

He twisted out from under her arm and changed direction, walking away from her.

"Oi!" she shouted after him.

"Sorry," he said, "I can't be friends with you anymore because-"

"That's different! We're not friends, we're teammates!"

He turned with a smile. He'd only been teasing her, but it was fun watching Ai get angry when normally she was the only running rings around everyone else. "What was it you wanted to show me, Ai?"

* * *

When Minato came to knock on his sensei's door the following day, a bear answered.

Well, it wasn't really a bear, but Jiraiya-sensei could look awfully frightening first thing in the morning when he hadn't yet washed and dressed and his hair was loose. Scratching his belly through his pyjamas, he yawned down at Minato and stood for a moment trying to remember who he was.

His sensei was a very tall man – easily the tallest jonin in the village. No wonder it was so difficult to hide himself from the women he stalked.

"Ah," said the bear at last in a deep, croaky rumble. "Minato. Come in. Have you had breakfast yet?"

That wasn't the reason he'd come, though he was never one to turn down an offer of free food, especially when his sensei always kept such indulgent treats in his fridge. Most people had plain food for breakfast; toast, cereal, eggs, etc. Not Jiraiya-sensei. He had chocolate gateau.

So as Minato happily stuffed cake into his cheeks like a delirious hamster, his sensei dressed. By the time he returned to the kitchen, Minato had wolfed down at least three slices.

"Ai told me you entered us into the chunin exam," he said, before his sensei would notice half his cake was absent.

"That I did."

"I thought you didn't want to enter us yet," Minato said. One of the most common things his sensei said was 'let children be children' and while some teachers pushed to have their students pass into the ranks of chunin (mostly just to be rid of them, it seemed), Jiraiya had hung onto them, saying physical maturity always came before mental maturity. While he was confident his kids could pass the test, he didn't think they needed to just yet.

Or at least that had been true until Ai had taken Minato to the administration headquarters and showed him the list of exam applicants.

"Perhaps it's time, Minato," his sensei said, sounding a little weary, although that was probably because it was Monday morning. "I can't hold you back forever and most of your peers will be entered this year. I think the Triad of Doom are entering... even Hatake's entering his kids."

While it was a given that Inoichi and his team – or the Triad, as some called it, as the relationship between the Yamanaka, Nara and Akimichi clan bordered on mafia-like – the news that Kushina was entering gave him a jolt he felt right in the pit of his stomach. Was she really ready for this kind of thing? It wasn't so much the exam he worried about, but rather what would happen _if they passed._

"I wasn't sure about Ai and Saburou," his sensei went on. "But I figure if you're ready, they are too, though it'll be no walk in the park once you're chunin. It means taking orders from other jonin, and I won't be able to keep you off the frontlines anymore."

This was of no concern to Minato. He'd been near enough the frontlines to make no difference. He knew it was hard out there on the edge, and extremely dangerous, but he'd never even felt a flutter of nervousness at the thought of sending and retrieving messages near even the bloodiest Kumo border.

But what about Kushina?

It seemed like only yesterday she was wrinkling her nose, struggling to perform the most basic of henge.

"Sakumo-sensei isn't pushing his students too hard, is he?" he wondered hesitantly.

Jiraiya blinked at him in surprise. "What makes you say that?"

"It's just that... I heard he's really strict-"

"Sakumo? He's a pussycat."

"But-"

"Minato, he's a very kind, fair man once you get to know him. He wouldn't have entered your Kushina into the exam unless he was confident she could handle it."

"M-My Kushina?" That sounded wrong on so many levels. But something else had been bothering him too. "Um... sensei? If there was a fight between you and Sakumo-sensei, who would win?"

"Minato!" Jiraiya cried, alarmed. "How could you ask that?"

Minato dropped his head in shame.

"Of course your sensei would win, what do you take me for?!"

But it was not to be. As it turned out, Minato's innocent question planted a seed of uncertainty in his sensei, and by the end of the week, news was spreading fast around the village that a certain powerful jonin had challenged another powerful jonin in a fight to the death.

Konoha gossip was known to be a _little_ exaggerated.

Nevertheless, the moment Minato heard it he raced to the third training ground to join the mass of spectators who'd already congregated to watch the two jonin teachers go at each other. It was flashy and very fast, and most would agree it was hard to follow, as the two men pulled only their most fatal punches; everything else they let loose freely. Over the cheering encouragement of the crowd, Minato picked out one little red-head hopping along the sidelines, the most bloodthirsty of them all. She was quite clearly instructing her sensei to rip the head off Minato's sensei... but in the kind of language that never failed to make him blush.

When the fight ended it looked to the untrained eye that the two men were evenly matched and had drawn equally. Yet from the wincing of his sensei and the strained kind of smile he showed, Minato knew this draw was just a polite way to end a fight that both their reputations had ridden on. In reality, Jiraiya-sensei had lost.

That seemed impossible to Minato. He was in more shock and denial than his own sensei at this defeat. But what he failed to understand then, as he wouldn't understand until he was older, was that his sensei was still a boy of twenty-three, and Kushina's sensei had ten years of age and experience on him, including a legendary title and the motivation of a lovely, four-month pregnant wife among his spectators.

* * *

Minato was nearing his fourteenth birthday when the next scheduled chunin exam was finally held.

At the time, it was strictly a domestic affair. Every village held its own chunin exams, and how difficult it was varied from country to country. It would be many years before the third secret war ended and it would become an international event and a manner of keeping the peace. For Minato and the other genin, it was all about war. Spies were sent to observe the developments and results of the chunin exams in other villages, for the greatest way to measure a rival's potential was to see the new talent.

This was probably why everyone was suddenly very excited about Minato. As far as reputation went, he was only really known in Konoha, but Jiraiya was of the opinion that once these exams were over, there wouldn't be a kage in all the five nations who didn't know his name and at least fear it a little.

With a little trepidation at the thought of foreign leaders talking about him, Minato signed up along with the rest of his team, Aki and Saburou. It seemed fairly simple. There would be three exams, the first testing cognitive skills, the second testing physical skills, and the third would be a rounded free-fight contest to demonstrate combat skills, utilising every skill the genin had.

This year there were twenty applicants hoping to be promoted. At half-nine on the day of the examination, they congregated in an old academy hallway that none of them had been in for at least two years, and where the first test was to take place. Until the examiners arrived they had little to do but fiddle about in their seats and nervously check out the competition. When the others saw Minato, they began looking a little green. He even heard a few people muttering that if they got placed opposite him in the final, they'd just drop out to save face. Minato didn't share in any of their nervousness as he glanced around at the other genin, but then it would be a distant day before he ever met his match in Konoha.

He did, however, do a small double-take when he saw Kushina sitting six chairs away from him, studiously examining the children's pictures on the opposite wall. She was alone, without her teammates, which meant they'd either chickened out of applying or, as was usually the case, their sensei had deemed them unready.

"Kushina," he called, waving at her. "Hey, Kushina!"

Her eyes flicked once to him and then quickly away. She was ignoring him. Before he even knew what to think of that response, the examiner emerged from the classroom before them. "Now that we're all here," she announced to the rapt genin, "we'll proceed with the first test. When I call your name, you'll be taken into the classroom where the test will be explained to you, and you will each have fifteen minutes to complete the set task. Upon finishing, you will be asked to wait outside in the training yard as you are not to discuss the test with other students waiting to take it. Understood?"

There was a nervous mutter of agreement. Some genin were absolutely frozen in dread and unable to even nod.

"We'll do this alphabetically," the chunin examiner said. "Abe Ai."

Ai stood, looking determined and scared, and marched into the room like a lioness. The door shut behind her, and though it was obvious that everyone was bursting to talk, the presence of the imposing examiner held them in absolute silence. Fifteen minutes later and Ai emerged to curious stares.

She was soaking wet.

"Go stand outside please," the examiner said.

Muttering, and almost literally steaming, Ai stomped away down the corridor.

"Akimichi Chouza." A very large boy, even bigger than Saburou, went into the classroom and after some definite roaring that had most genin flinching, he emerged ten minutes later with wet arms and sandals that squeaked wetly on the linoleum floor.

This was quite the mystery. Just what was going on in that classroom, and what on earth did so much water have to do with testing cognitive abilities? Other genin were looking even more bemused, as one by one they were called forth and one by one they emerged again wearing various degrees of moisture. Some were dripping wet, like Ai, and some were only just splattered with a few drops. Some took the full quarter hour; most seemed to finish or give up after ten.

After the fifteenth genin emerged, squelching away in sodden shoes, the examiner finally called his name. "Namikaze Minato."

Most of the other remaining genin wished him luck as he passed them on his way towards the classroom door, and he wondered if Kushina would say it too. She just looked the other way. Perhaps she felt it was a little unnecessary. Wishing Minato luck in passing a test was not unlike wishing luck for the sun to rise tomorrow morning.

Inside the classroom, he took a moment to look around. It was empty, save for two tables pushed together against the far wall, upon which sat two large tanks – one full of water, the other empty. A little damp note had been pinned to the table-top between them. Minato read it, and realised the task was simpler than he'd anticipated: all he had to do was transfer water from the first tank into the second, and he would be scored by how much water he managed to retain and how fast he managed to accomplish it.

Presumably this was a test of chakra precision and ingenuity, and also of detection abilities. Minato turned his head slightly, noticing the curiously still insect sitting on the window. It was definitely watching him, he thought, as he walked across the room to one corner, and then the other, and saw the fly swivelling on its legs to follow him.

He knew that there was a family of ninja in Konoha who used insects as tools and spies, and in all likeliness one had been commissioned by the examination board to make sure there was no cheating.

And even though Minato didn't quite consider his idea as _cheating_, he decided to play it safe, and succinctly flattened the fly with an old textbook and turned to his task at hand.

He emerged after three minutes and twenty-four seconds, with just a dab of condensation under his chin that no one noticed, and went to stand out in the yard with all the other quivering genin who saw him and quailed.

"How did you do it?!" Yamanaka Inoichi demanded, blonde hair dripping. "I was scooping it as fast as I could, but I ran out of time!"

"You weren't using your hands were you?" his teammate Shikaku asked lazily. "There was a wastepaper basket in the corner that could hold about six litres."

"Is that what you did?!" Inoichi demanded, absolutely terrified.

Apparently Shikaku was refusing to say.

"I just lifted up the first tank and poured," said Akimichi Chouza. Even Minato's eyes widened at the thought. That tank full of water was heavier than a champion sumo wrestler. "Most of it went on the floor though," Chouza admitted.

Uzumaki Kushina was one of the last to emerge, looking surprisingly dry with only a few spots of damp along her sleeves. Minato debated whether or not to go over and ask how she'd attempted to solve the test, but she was moving quite deliberately to stand apart from the crowd of other genin and when she caught his eye she looked at him like she didn't know who he was.

Such a strange girl...!

The examiners came along a few minutes later with the last genin, who was not only covered in water, but bandages too. Undoubtedly something had unfolded involving the glass tanks but Minato dreaded to think how he's managed that.

"That will do!" said the stern examiner, as if they were a rabble of noisy children instead of what they really were, which was a silent cluster of frightened genin who strongly resembled a pack of drowned rats. "You have all more or less completed the first third of your examination. Here are your results so far, from last place to first place, but be warned that your position now is subject to change depending on how you perform on the next two tasks. Last and least is Yohana Soteshi. Did you really think _punching_ the tanks would get you far?"

The boy with the bandaged hands hung his head.

It went on like that, a name being read out followed by some genin wincing and cringing as their disgrace was aired freely before everyone. Most of them appeared to be holding themselves rigid and breathless until around halfway through the list; anyone who hadn't had their name read out yet at least knew they were in the upper fifty percent, although the examiner's tone was no less harsh.

"Abe Ai," she read out, "More original thinking using the wastepaper basket. You should have worked faster though. You only transferred half the water volume before you ran out of time."

Ai scowled, but didn't seem too upset as most people had chosen the same method. A minority had been in possession of an apt jutsu to move the water across, though from the sound of it this was to mixed success. There didn't appear to be anyone who had transferred the water completely without spilling whole pints.

And after Ai came...

"Uzumaki Kushina. Using the tube from the Bunsen burner to siphon the water was clever, but too small. You should have used the larger tube from the vacuum cleaner if you'd wanted to complete the task on-"

"What?!" Ai exploded. "What Bunsen burner? What vacuum cleaner?!"

"In the closet," the examiner replied evenly. " A good ninja knows to exploit their environment for tools and advantages otherwise overlooked."

"_A good_ _nin_– I'm not hearing this," Ai ground out. "I bet she doesn't even know what a siphon is!"

"It's that thing what you use to clean the fish tank!" Kushina shouted, red with anger. "I bet you've never cleaned anything in your life, you lazy-"

"And good ninja conduct themselves with dignity and restraint," barked the examiner, glaring them both into rapid submission. "Nara Shikaku. You switched the tanks around. Ingenious, but if you plan to commit deceit, you must take better care to hide it."

And finally she turned to Minato. It was no surprise to anyone in that yard that he was the final student, and therefore the one with the highest score, but there was a little tingle of curiosity from the other genin as they wondered just how Captain Awesome had done it.

"Namikaze Minato... you disabled the bug, so we don't know how you did it, but you transferred every drop as far as we can tell in less than a third of your allotted time, so we have no choice but to give you a perfect score," she said grudgingly.

"Thank you," said Minato meekly.

Around him, the genin heaved a mixture sigh of envy and dismay that they were still no nearer to learning how he'd done it.

"That is all," said the examiner. "You're all dismissed until tomorrow, when we will start the second part of your test."

Finally released, the atmosphere relaxed immediately. Seeing that he was about to be accosted by no less than a dozen impatient genin, Minato furtively turned to search for Kushina. He found her in the process of trying to sneak away herself, only she was having a difficult time of it because Uchiha Mikoto had cornered her.

Thinking she was being teased again, he jogged towards them. But it was a false alarm.

"...I wish I'd thought of that," he caught Mikoto saying as he caught up. "You know, everyone says you're thick, but none of them thought to look for a siphon. I didn't think we were allowed in the storage closet, so I just used the trash can..."

Kushina was absolutely dismayed by this attention. She looked at the other girl like she was speaking another language, still discreetly trying to edge away, and when she saw Minato approaching she managed to look even more alarmed.

"Congratulations, Kushina, you did really well," he told her warmly.

"Yeah, well, whatever," she mumbled. "I have to go."

Eyes wide and slack-jawed respectively, Mikoto and Minato watched her hurry away across the training yard and through the gate onto the street. Neither of them had been quite so blatantly blown off in all their lives.

Mikoto gave Minato a look of deep consternation. "I don't think she likes me at all."

This was probably very true, but it seemed unfair. As much as the Uchiha clan had a reputation for being especially combative and anti-social with those outside the clan, the female side of the family had always seemed perfectly normal and pleasant to Minato. Mikoto didn't deserve to be given the cold shoulder. "She's very shy," he said apologetically. "I'm sure if she knew you a little better..."

She smiled sadly and turned away, but she didn't seem to know anyone else to talk to, and she stood awkwardly . Minato felt a pang of sympathy. Kushina shouldn't have rebuffed her.

"I better go home," Mikoto said. "My family will be eager to hear how I did..."

Minato waved her goodbye, then immediately set off after Kushina before anyone else could descend on him. _Someone_ needed to talk to that girl and remind her just how rude she could be, in case she didn't realise it herself, but although he'd set off only moments after her, it took him almost an hour to track her down in the busy village centre with its many narrow alleys and crooks and crannies where small red-heads from Whirlpool could hide.

It was only by chance that he eventually found her, when he was running out of ideas and just wandering through the lower level of the market street. At first he noticed some sort of commotion near one of the stalls. Someone appeared to be convinced it was raining, though there wasn't a cloud in the sky and his customers were telling him he was crazy.

"I tell you it's raining!" he cried, taking off his hat to shake it. It was pretty wet.

Minato quickly climbed the steep staircase to the upper level of the market and found Kushina sitting near the rails above the distressed man. She was holding a watering can in her hand and stared at him stolidly, unabashed at being caught red-handed.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said.

"It's just a bit of fun," she replied with a shrug, and reach her arm out over the rail to tip the can again.

It wasn't the pranks he cared about. "I meant about that Uchiha girl. She was trying to be nice to you, and you just turned your back on her."

Kushina froze, watering can stopping before it could deposit more than a few dribbling drops.

"Do you enjoy that? Pushing everyone away so that no one likes you?" he asked.

She pulled a face but didn't answer, although from the way she set the watering can down beside her it looked as if her heart had gone out of the prank.

"And why do you like pretending I don't exist when other people are around?" he demanded. "Are you ashamed of me or something?"

"Ashamed of _you?"_ she spluttered. "Are you smoking the same stuff as Big J now? I'm doing it _for _you."

He shrugged helplessly. "What does _that_ mean?"

"Don't they make fun of you for hanging around with me?" she asked.

"Well, yes, but I don't care."

"Kagura cares. She never shuts up about it. Sensei makes her run laps around the village if he catches her, but when he's not there she really lays it on thick. Most of the bruises I get, I don't get on missions," she grouched, folding her arms across her knees to prop her chin on them. She stared out moodily over the market.

"Kagura picks on you?" he asked, shocked.

"_Everyone_ picks on me," she intoned flatly.

"Yes, but Kagura – I thought she was nice." How strange, to think that someone could be so sweet to his face but be so nasty behind his back to someone else.

"Was I supposed to tell you she wasn't nice?" Kushina wondered, more to herself than to him. "I didn't think you'd believe me."

It wouldn't have occurred to him to think for a second that Kushina could be lying. Most people would assume that, and would preference their lovely girlfriend over a scruffy immigrant with a potty mouth any day of the week, but Minato felt he knew Kushina better than he did most of his other acquaintances, including his girlfriend. While he knew Kushina could be frustrating and contradictory and downright confusing at times, she didn't lie.

"I'll dump her if you like."

Kushina inhaled deeply and gave a long sigh. "Nah... it's ok," she said quietly, as if she didn't care. But it wasn't really up to her. Minato didn't want to go out with anyone who gave bruises to those more vulnerable than themselves.

"Let's have a look," he said.

"What?" Kushina shot him an annoyed look. She didn't hold with half-formed commands.

"At these bruises."

A little reluctantly, she rolled up one dirty, frayed sleeve and showed him her forearm. He had to peer pretty closely to make out the tiny, faint discolouration in her skin, and two minutes scratch marks that were nearly finished scabbing. It was an old abrasion, but he still felt bad. To Kushina he gave a solemn, remorseful look. "That's awful."

Emboldened by his satisfyingly sympathetic response, she turned pink and hastily shifted closer to show him her neck. She had to push down her collar and her dirty, chin-length hair to reveal the red mark hiding there. Minato gave another appropriate gasp of horror. "And look," she said, pulling up her jacket almost all the way up to her shoulders to show him her bare back, like these battle scars were a point of pride. "Look at this one. Uchiha Mikoto's brother did that one with a stick."

There was a rather nasty scab between her shoulder blades that might have once been quite an impressive little cut a week or two ago, but all Minato could focus on right then was that, apparently, Kushina didn't wear bras. That seemed strange, since even Ai wore a bra and she didn't even appear to need one yet. Most girls their age already wore them.

He swallowed with some difficulty. "E-Even so," he said, trying to force his mind off feminine underwear and its absence. "Mikoto doesn't seem so bad. You should try being friends with her."

Kushina dropped her jacket back in place, her expression cagey. "Mm," she grunted unenthusiastically. He realised that he was asking her to do something quite difficult.

"It's not like she has many friends either, so..."

Her expression softened. "Ok," she said quietly. "I'll try and be on my best behaviour. I guess she'd have to be pretty desperate for friends if she wants me for one."

"Don't put yourself down," Minato admonished.

"Right. There's plenty enough people to do that for me."

"Yeah, well, self-pity doesn't really suit you," he told her, "not when you did really well on that test. Did anyone else think to use a siphon? I don't think so."

Kushina drew glum circles on the concrete between them. "Ai was right, I didn't even know what a 'siphon' was. That was just how Mom used to clean the aquarium. I don't know the names for things, but I remember how she did it."

"That's all that's important," he reminded her.

"I was lucky. If the test had been different I would have totally failed..."

"You had experience the others like Ai didn't have, and whether or not you would have passed if it had been a different kind of test is irrelevant," he said. "You were in the top five, so you should be happy. I bet you didn't think keeping fish would pay off like this eventually, huh?"

"Everyone in Whirlpool had an aquarium," she told him, looking surprised that this wasn't a given. "We were right on the coast – had the best reefs in the world that were filled with millions of tiny little coloured fish. My favourite were the red ones because they had these beautiful long, ruffled fins. We used to catch them ourselves, so everyone had a tank, though you had to be careful not to get sucked into the whirlpools. I spent every day in the sea back home. But now... I haven't seen the ocean in years. The last whirlpool I saw was in the bath."

So she _did_ at least take baths. That was good to know. Minato reached out and touched her shoulder, glad to hear her share something of her past that she clearly remembered fondly. "The reefs will still be there, won't they?" he pointed out. "One day we'll go see them again."

Slowly, she smiled back, and her face glowed even under all its layers of dirt.

"Are you ready for the test tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yep." She nodded, then suddenly went still. "Wait. You never said how _you_ got all the water into the other tank without spilling a drop."

"Oh," he said, looking sheepish. "I didn't."

"You didn't...?"

"I didn't move anything. I just put a genjutsu on the examiners to make them think I had."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise and she contemplated this audacious move. It had not occurred to her or anyone else to tamper with the examiners' judgement instead of the tanks. "That sounds like cheating," she said suspiciously, "but you'd have to be pretty good to fool chunin examiners, so I think you deserve your marks anyway."

"Thank you," he said humbly.

"Well, this village seems to encourage and reward dishonesty and all kinds of unwholesome behaviour anyway, so it figures _you'd_ pass with flying colours," she said with an indifferent shrug. "Now if you'll excuse me."

She rose to her feet and calmly tipped the rest of the watering can's contents over the rails, then she passed the can to him with an off-hand, "Here. I better be going. I'll see you round, Minato."

As she trotted away Minato looked over the rail to see what damage she'd done. Unfortunately at the same time a rather wet and angry man looked up and saw Minato. "Oi! You! You, kid! Get down here so I can shove that can right up your-"

Oh, dear!

Minato looked around desperately for help, but Kushina had already vanished.

* * *

TBC


	4. A Test of Faith

**The Girl from Whirlpool**

Chapter Four: A Test of Faith

* * *

A chunin exam wasn't a proper chunin exam unless the Forest of Death was involved somewhere. It was a place most genin had a healthy fear of, and it was understood that if you could traverse it from one side to the other and come out with all your body parts intact and mostly venom-free, you were roughly chunin-level or above. This was the real benchmark that would decide their capability as middle-class fighters, for if they couldn't fight their way through this, they had no hope.

When they got the news early the next morning that they were to gather at the edge of the forest to await instructions, the genin were understandably horrified. Parents of two children decided to withdraw them from the test on the spot, which left just eighteen candidates. This was some good news for the rest of them, as one of the first things they were told when they arrived at the checkpoint on the forest edge was that there were only twelve chunin positions open and less competition was always welcome. But this meant that, regardless of whether they all performed perfectly or not, six of them would be going home empty handed in the end.

Minato looked around at the others who were all shooting furtive, calculating looks at each other, and he knew it was no coincidence that the examiners had chosen to reveal this rather important fact so late into the exam. The next test was, after all, a test of teamwork, and there was no better way to test teamwork than to subtly set them all against each other.

Worst of all, the strict examiner was back. She stood against the fence, glowering at them all as if they'd offended her just by turning up. "In the middle of this forest," she announced, "there is an outpost. At this outpost will be nine lockers, for which there are nine keys, and everyone who gets inside one of these lockers and retrieves the item within will automatically pass this second test. As you may have noticed, only half of you can pass this test."

"And where do we find these keys?" Nara Shikaku asked bluntly.

"You don't. They're right here." The examiner withdrew a crumpled white envelope from her pouch and tipped nine small keys onto the dusty ground. They glittered in the strong morning light, and the genin stared at them like magpies.

"What are you waiting for?" the examiner announced. "Take them."

There was only one beat of hesitation, then as one they all threw themselves forward into a shouting, squabbling pile at the woman's feet. They keys rapidly disappeared into tightly clenched fists, but it wasn't over. With only nine keys and eighteen genin, there was still a lot of squabbling and scratching a few pained bleats as hair was pulled. Minato hung back. He knew an impending massacre when he saw it.

Tenacious little Kushina, on the other hand, was right in the thick of it, biting someone's fist to get at their key.

"Enough!" the examiner bellowed, enough to make the young ninja scuttle away. "Who now has a key?"

Six rather beat-up children raised their hands. There had to be three more but they were wisely not going to advertise the fact.

"That's not fair!" Yamanaka Inoichi protested, dabbing his split lip. "If they have keys and we don't, then the test is already decided!"

"If you wanted fairness, this wasn't the career choice for you," the examiner reprimanded him sharply. "Your task now will be to capture a key for yourself. Those who already have a key, your task will be to keep it. Do not overestimate your advantage! It doesn't matter who starts out with a key at this point... only the superior among you will be holding one in the end.

"Now. You will be divided into teams of three, as travelling through this forest alone is not recommended for ninja of your level, but ultimately do not forget that _you_ individually need a key to pass this test, regardless of who else on your team has one."

Then she strode among them, splitting them up quite randomly into sets of three by pushing them together. Minato was lumped with Inoichi and Shikaku who had coincidentally been standing near him when the examiner passed, and looking at them both, Minato could see they both had something clenched in their fists.

Inoichi was quite the poker-faced bluffer...

A few metres away, Kushina had been paired with Ai and one of the male Uchiha. None of them looked particularly happy about the fact, Minato thought, but then he noticed Inoichi and Shikaku were giving him a few unhappy glances. Well, if they had keys and he didn't, they were understandably concerned about being teamed with him. They probably thought he'd jump them both as soon as they were alone.

"Each team will enter the forest five minutes after one another. Those teams with members who scored highest in the last test will leave first. Which means you're up," the examiner said, pointing to Minato and his team.

When the three boys just stared at her she rolled her eyes impatiently. "Go! Shoo! The clock is ticking!"

They jumped and began sprinting for the narrow gap in the fence that led into the trees. At the edge of the forest the vegetation was still quite sparse, allowing a lot of light and fresh air, but as they ran their surroundings quickly thickened. Deeper in the Forest of Death, the trees were thick and old and taller than the Hokage tower. "We have to put as much distance between us and the next lot, and find a good spot to come up with some strategies," Minato called to the other two as they ran. They said nothing, so he figured it was safe to assume to role of leader for this test.

After a few more minutes, Minato brought them to a stop beside the mushroom-covered stump of a dead tree. "Here will do," he said. "Now. You both have keys, don't-"

"Now!" Inoichi shouted. "Get him!"

Minato tried to turn, ready to ward off attack, but found that he couldn't move. Not an inch. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that a shadow was stretched unnaturally across the forest floor, attaching to his own. Shikaku had caught him in his family's trademark jutsu. "What – why are you doing this?" Minato asked, trying to fight the forces holding him in place. He didn't have much experience with this kind of jutsu. He didn't know how to break it.

"I've got him, Inoichi, now it's your turn," Shikaku said form behind him.

That was when Minato felt a very queer sensation creep over him, like he was being forced to take a step backwards, without ever moving, so that he was almost standing behind himself. His eyes did not look where he wanted to look. When he tried to speak, his mouth remained shut as if the connection between his brain and his body had been severed.

"You got him?" Shikaku asked.

"Yes," said Minato's mouth, though he had not instructed it to move. "You can let him go now."

The shadows receded and Minato's body was now free to move and turn, yet still he could not control it. His eyes moved independently of his will and fixed on the crumpled form of Inoichi beside Shikaku.

"Wow!" Shikaku looked enormously relieved, as if he'd just been incredibly nervous. "I don't believe we just got one up on Namikaze."

"I don't know how long I can hold him," Minato's mouth said. "Help tie me up – uh – _him_ up."

_Inoichi! _Minato protested. _Get out of my head!_

"Sorry, Minato," said Minato, as he held his hands out for Shikaku to bind them. "It's nothing personal, it's just that you're a lot stronger than us, and you could have easily taken one of our keys. Me and Shikaku are going to the outpost alone. We'll be the first to pass. Don't forget his feet, Shikaku."

"Is this a good idea? Leaving him tied up out here?" Shikaku wondered. "There's a lot of wild animals around here."

"It's Minato!"

"I guess you're right."

_I'm not invulnerable!_ he cried out, though no one seemed to hear him. If he'd been able to speak he would have warned them that they were Dangerously missing the point of the test. It was their _teamwork_ that was under scrutiny here, and yet the first thing they'd done was turn on a teammate!

In minutes he was tied and gagged and bound against the soft, spongy cushion of mushrooms growing all over the tree stump. Inoichi came to and picked himself up off the ground, and Minato finally found he was able to move again, though the knots were too complex to all him much wriggle room.

"No hard feelings, Minato," Shikaku said, as he and Inoichi raced away. Minato stared after them bleakly.

Well, _now_ what was he supposed to do?

He could probably break free of these bonds, but it would be a waste of time and energy, especially when what he needed most right now was to find other people, and being so close to the starting point meant they would most likely find _him_ in this place before too long_._

So he sat and mentally twiddled his thumbs, and indeed it wasn't too long before he heard leaves being crunched underfoot. Someone was approaching. Minato did his best to sit up and make as much noise through the gag as possible.

At least he hoped it was some_one_ rather than some_thing._ He'd feel pretty stupid if a giant millipede crawled out of those trees right now.

Instead of a millipede, Ai emerged.

_Thank god!_ He thought and watched her stop to stare at him incredulously. "It's only Minato," she stage-whispered to someone behind her. The Uchiha boy stepped out a moment later.

"What's he tied up for?" the boy asked.

Ai just shrugged. "Check if he's got a key," she said. "He's bound to have one."

"_You_ check," said the Uchiha. "This feels like a trap."

Minato was beginning to think his contemporaries had a tendency to overestimate him. He raised his eyebrows at Ai who inched over like he was radioactive, and stopped barely close enough to reach out and pat his pockets. Satisfied he had nothing, she tugged off his gag.

"Can you untie me?" he asked her.

"Do you have a key?" she asked back.

He felt his question was more pressing, but he answered nonetheless. "No."

"Shikaku and Inoichi probably overpowered him, which means they probably have keys. Leave him there and we'll go after them," said the Uchiha. "Less competition is better."

Minato looked between him and Ai, and quickly it dawned on him that something was missing here, and not just a common sense of decency. "Where's Kushina?" he demanded. "Wasn't she on your team?"

Ai and the Uchiha looked at each other. "She was holding us back," he answered.

"That's not the point," Minato said, feeling hot and angry and unusually close to losing his temper. "This is a team assessment! You can't just ditch your teammates!"

"What do you care? You're not on our team," said the Uchiha. "Let's go."

Ai gave Minato an indifferent kind of shrug, as if to say none of it mattered anyway, and then they too abandoned him, setting off on the trail of Inoichi and Shikaku.

Minato tried to look on the bright side. At least now he was no longer gagged.

However, this was a small comfort as he sat amongst the mushrooms and fumed. It was a new experience for him, to be ditched by friends when normally they were scrabbling to be by his side. But it seemed that as soon as it benefited them, his so-called friends were only too happy to leave him high and dry.

This, perhaps, upset him a little more than it should have.

Before too long he heard stomping footsteps approaching through the undergrowth. Minato held his breath. That sounded far too noisy and careless to be one of the genin. He hoped to god it wasn't a tiger-

Oh. Only Kushina. He should have known.

The small red-head shoved a branch aside to step into his clearing and then stopped to witness his sigh of relief. "Oh," she said, not looking particularly surprised. "You're all tied up."

"Yeah," he said. "Can you untie me?"

Unlike Ai and the suspicious Uchiha and his cutthroat teammates, Kushina didn't appear to have even a moment's second thought before walking over to begin hacking at his bonds with a kunai. When he was free, she even took his hands and scowled at his wrists as she checked them over for any injuries that might need first-aid. "Did you get jumped by your team?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed. "They had keys and I didn't... they figured it would be better to get rid of me. But I just saw _your_ team going after them. Did they ditch you too?"

She wrinkled her nose. "No. They tried to take my key so I ran."

And to prove it, she produced a little silver key from her pouch and held it up for him to see. Under these circumstances, it seemed kinda stupid. Didn't she know people were being ambushed and tied up over these things? He stared at her rather than the key. "Aren't you worried I'll try to take it off you too?"

She looked at him thoughtfully, as if it really hadn't occurred to her. "No."

And that was that. She helped him stand and patted him free of clinging leaves, dirt and mushroom spores. She was so totally at ease that he realised the choice now was obvious. "We'll have to form our own team if we want to complete the test," he told her. "Would you mind helping me capture my own key?"

"Sure," she said with a shrug.

"You don't mind? You could go straight to the outpost from here and win if you wanted," he reminded her.

"Well... yeah," she said slowly. "But you need a key too, so... and if I stick with you, there's less chance someone will take mine away. I think your team must have been pretty stupid. Most people round here would kill to have you on their side."

"Only when it suits them," he said darkly, and they set off together through the forest towards its centre. They were heading in the direction of the outpost, not because they wanted to go there, but because this was undoubtedly where anyone with a key was heading as well. Sooner or later they would have to come across someone who-

"Did you hear that?" Minato whispered, bringing them both to a silent stop in the shadow of a boulder. Kushina listened intently, until she heard the soft whispering huffs too. _Tiger_, she mouthed at him, but Minato wasn't quite so sure. It seemed awfully close, and to the best of his knowledge, tigers didn't cry.

He moved silently around the boulder and peered down into a wide hollowed out log that was undoubtedly older than their village. The dark-haired girl crouched inside it didn't notice him until he softly called her name. "Mikoto? Are you alright?"

She twisted to face him, eyes wide and wet. "Uh..."

Kushina dropped down beside him to look into the log as well. "Do you think she has a key?" she asked.

"Kushina," he admonished lightly. "I don't think now's the right-"

"I don't have a key," Mikoto said tremulously, rubbing her eyes. "I had one but Hyuuga Hiashi took it. Him and his brother kicked me off the team."

"Join the club," Minato sighed.

"How can I pass the test if I don't have a team?" she exclaimed despairingly. "If I don't pass... my dad's going to be really mad. He was boasting to Fugaku's parents about how good I was, but if I can't even pass the chunin test...? My life is over!"

"Over? Already?" Kushina echoed incredulously.

"Why don't you join our team?" Minato asked her. "Me and Kushina were going to get a key for me, but it's no more trouble to help you get one as well."

"You don't mind?" she sniffed.

Kushina made a sound like she was thinking of protesting, but Minato shot her a sharp warning look. _Best behaviour!_ he mentally pleaded. Surely she hadn't forgotten the promise she'd made to be nice to Mikoto?

Apparently not. Kushina swallowed hard and then suddenly thrust her key at Mikoto. "You can have mine, if you want," she said quickly.

"You... you really don't mind?" Mikoto whispered, amazed.

"It's not fair your own teammates stole your key," Kushina told her. "Your brother just tried to take mine too, so we're all outcasts. Now we can work together and get our own back. Me and Minato will worry about getting our keys. You just back us up, ok?"

"Come on," Minato reached down to help the dark-haired girl out of the hollow. With the three of them together they were a proper team again and he didn't feel quite so hopeless anymore. Perhaps they wouldn't deduct too many points for ending the test in a different team than when they'd started. "The important thing is to stick together," he told the girls. "We don't split up until all three of us have keys, right?"

"Whose keys are we going to go for? Your teammates had some didn't they?" Kushina asked.

"Yes, but Ai and Mikoto's brother are after them as well."

"Hiashi and Hizashi went that way and I know they both have keys," Mikoto said, pointing to the north. "I don't think anyone would dare go after them normally, but..."

Minato shrugged. "They're not so tough."

The two girls looked at each, both realising that only someone like Minato could take the Hyuuga twins so lightly. Even the most talented of the Uchiha were pretty wary of the prodigies of their cousin clan. The most important thing to know – and perhaps the only thing you needed to know about Hyuuga – was that they could see through solid objects, including the back of their heads. It was virtually impossible to sneak up on them, which made them incredibly difficult targets to steal keys from.

But 'virtually impossible' wasn't the same as impossible.

"We better keep going towards the outpost," Minato told the girls. "I'd rather not come across the Hyuuga twins if we can help it, but we'll take anyone we can get. If we assume that everyone with a key will be wary of being ambushed between the east entrance of the forest and the outpost, they might try to approach the outpost from the west."

So it was decided that they would head directly for the outpost and work out ways to ambush the remaining teams. It was a fifteen minute journey, and from the cover of the canopy they could see the mammoth tree that had been hollowed out and converted into a building, one which could have easily even overlooked as an outpost if not for the row of lockers lined up near the churning roots. There were nine, though three looked as if they had already been opened.

"Then there's only six keys left," Mikoto whispered, because Minato had said he sensed another keyless team nearby who seemed to have the same idea as them.

"I wonder which team is already through," Kushina sighed, slumping down against the trunk of the tree they were sitting in to scratch at itchy scalp.

"Doesn't matter. Being first is not everything," Minato said, feeling a little hollow as he said it, because he wasn't used to being anything but _first _in _everything_. "We'll be second with any luck."

Kushina grunted and settled in to discreetly fan her hot glowing face after their sprint through the forest. Minato kept watch. Minutes ticked by, and the forest was filled only with hot, damp air and a million insects. Somewhere in the distance the trees quivered and an enormous red-black body hunched through the undergrowth like an overgrown worm. Which was probably exactly what it was. But as long as they were in the trees they were relatively safe from the predators in this forest who were mostly ground-dwelling. The real danger came only from other genin.

And although they waited half an hour, no one turned up. If Hiashi and Hizashi had been exactly where Mikoto said they were, they'd had plenty of time to reach the outpost by now. No doubt they were hanging back, anticipating ambush. They would have to appear eventually, however. There _was_ a time limit on this test.

Kushina plucked at her lip impatiently. "Where is everyone?" she complained. "We're going to fail at this rate."

"I hope not," Mikoto said apprehensively, hugging herself tightly. She seemed to be thinking of the trouble she would be in again.

Kushina shot her a sceptical look. "How come your dad would be so mad, anyway?" she asked. "It's not like it's a big deal if you don't pass first time."

Minato glanced distractedly over at her new teammates, saw Kushina's genuine confusion and Mikoto's discomfort and gave a small cough. "Mikoto is part of the Uchiha clan, Kushina."

This meant nothing to her. "Doesn't mean her dad doesn't need to take a chill pill," she said, scowling. "I don't believe someone who loved you could be that angry at you."

But Kushina did not understand that being a parent did not always guarantee love, nor did love guarantee affection and a soft hand. There could be fathers like Minato's who neither loved nor cared how their child fared in their examinations. Then there were fathers like Mikoto's who cared a little too much. Minato wondered where Kushina's own father fell, had she ever known him.

"Well," Mikoto said quietly, "if I fail, it'll be a blow to my family's credibility. Then Fugaku's parents might change their minds…"

"Uchiha Fugaku?" Minato asked. "He's one of the police commanders, isn't he?"

"Don't like him," Kushina said shortly. It was no secret that she'd had more than one run-in with the police in her time.

"He's going to be the next clan leader," Mikoto told her. "And if I uphold my family's reputation, we'll be married."

Kushina's mouth dropped open. "But – but – but he's _old. _He's like – twenty or something_"_

"The marriage was arranged when I was born," Mikoto went on. "Age doesn't really matter."

"But that shouldn't be allowed!" Kushina turned beseechingly to Minato, as if appealing to his authority. "That can't be allowed! Everyone should be allowed to choose who they marry!"

Minato shrugged uncomfortably. All the old clans had their peculiar traditions that seemed right out of the ark and he'd never really thought much about it. "If Mikoto is happy with it…?"

Kushina looked demandingly at Mikoto who recoiled a little nervously. "I'm not _unhappy…_" she offered vaguely. "Our clan has to protect our bloodline limit and make sure it doesn't get diluted and weakened. Arranged marriages are occasionally necessary to strengthen the clan."

Kushina remained unimpressed.

"The Hyuuga clan are _way_ worse, anyway…" Mikoto mumbled.

"Do you even like Fugu-face?" she demanded.

"I'm not… I haven't really spoken to him."

"Barbaric!" Kushina declared. "My village never would have allowed this! Mikoto, when I restart Whirlpool again, you may come and live there with me. If you want. Fugu-face isn't invited."

Mikoto blushed. "Thank you," she whispered, probably more taken with the gesture than the actual offer. Even Minato grinned. _He_ had yet to be invited to the paradise that was Uzumaki Kushina's new Whirlpool village, so it looked like she was taking her duty to be civil to the Uchiha girl very seriously.

A subtle movement somewhere deeper in the forest caught his eye. He glanced over, expecting it to be another mottled panther or a giant earwig – you know, the usual – and saw, with a thrill of anticipation, that it was another team.

Quickly, holding his finger to his lips so the other girls would know to be quiet, he beckoned them closer. "I think it's the Hyuuga twins," he whispered.

"They'll see us!" Mikoto whispered back.

"I've trained with Hiashi and Hizashi, and I don't think they can see much beyond sixty metres," he said quietly. "But presumably they both have keys. This could be our best chance."

"I think we should wait for someone else," Mikoto said.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Kushina reminded her. "They escape with the keys? We might as well try."

"The worst that could happen is they blow our organs out with the gentle fist technique," Minato corrected absently. "It'll be hard fooling the byakugan, and they'll be expecting ambush at this point… I know – Kushina, get down there and create a distraction."

"What did you just say about organs?" she hissed, face white.

"What?" he feigned innocence.

"Minato, I like my organs un-blown-out," she insisted.

"That won't happen. You have me to back you up, remember? But if we're going to get those keys, you'll need to create a diversion, so…"

So like a soldier resigning herself to the final charge, Kushina pushed herself upright on the branch, nodded solemnly to her new teammates – for it was certainly the last time she would see them while her organs were intact – and dropped down through the tree silently to catch up with the twins and confront them. Minato turned to Mikoto. "Keep an eye on the other keyless team," he said, pointing to the other team still hidden away, who seemed unaware of either their presence or the arrival of the Hyuuga boys. "They might make a move while I'm distracted, so shout if they act, or-"

"OI! HAND OVER THOSE KEYS RIGHT NOW!"

"Oh, dear…"

Kushina apparently took her job awfully seriously. Minato had to abandon Mikoto and scramble down the tree to see Kushina standing some distance away, confronting two rather amused looking boys. Her fists were up, her brow was furrowed, and she meant serious business. "Give me the keys or else!" she shouted at them.

Minato was almost too far away to hear one of the twins laughing response. "Or what?"

Or what? Kushina screamed her war scream, something that never failed to make everyone within a hundred yards flinch, and charged. It was hopeless, but she had the two boys full attention. That was all Minato wanted and needed. He shot forward.

Sometimes Minato moved so fast that everything else appeared to slow down in comparison. He saw Kushina running, but even though she was closer to the twins she wouldn't reach them before he did. And although he entered the byakugan's field of vision, it seemed to take an age for the boys to notice and begin turning towards them – just in time to receive Minato's fist to the face and stomach respectively. It was no 'gentle fist' technique. Hiashi staggered, clutching his jaw, and Hizashi dropped to his knees, wheezing.

Kushina chose that moment to launch herself like a fierce little Amazon onto Hiashi's back with a kunai to his throat. "Hand over the keys – nice and slow – no funny stuff!" she demanded with full authority.

Since Hizashi was close to passing out, Minato rifled through the boy's pockets and pouches until his light fingers found the tiny silver key they were looking for. While Hiashi struggled and turned in circles in desperate attempts to dislodge his unwelcome passenger, Minato calmly took a coil of wire and tied up his twin's hands behind his back.

"Get off me you – ginger freak!" Hiashi finally grabbed Kushina's arm and threw her. Minato slammed him into a tree with his shoulder and quickly performed a genjutsu through their skin contact to subdue the Hyuuga. Almost at once the boy sagged, staring catatonically off into the distance like he'd gone to sleep without remembering to close his eyes.

Minato turned immediately to Kushina who was sitting up a few metres away, leaves in her hair and a troubled look on her face. "Are you alright?" he asked quickly.

A perplexed Kushina showed him her floppy arm. She'd clearly been touched by a gentle-fist move that had sealed the chakra point inside her wrist. But this did not apparently concern her as much as he'd assumed. "…not ginger."

"What?"

"I'm not ginger," she complained. "I'm red. And I'm not a freak either."

Freakishly brave, perhaps, taking on opponents twice her size and strength without pause or consideration, but certainly not a freak. And did it matter what name people gave to her hair colour. It must have looked the same beautiful red to everyone else as it did to Minato. He smiled reassuringly as he crouched down beside her. "Let me see that arm."

She willingly handed him her floppy limb. "The feeling will come back pretty soon if you keep rubbing it like this," he told her, running his thumb firmly against the inside of her wrist, almost to her elbow. Kushina turned a little pink in the cheeks and quickly took her arm back. "I got it," she said quickly, taking over from him.

He was about to ask why she didn't like his touch, but Mikoto's scream interrupted his thoughts. "Minato!" she screamed. "Look out!"

He stood up quickly and turned to see two genin stumble out of the trees and stagger to a halt at the sight of him.

"Damn…" said one.

"Shit…" said the other.

They were the keyless team who'd been waiting for just this kind of opportunity to ambush someone. Yet it seemed they'd forgotten what they were doing the moment they realised the one they were ambushing was none other than the most powerful genin in the forest.

"Need something?" he asked.

The two boys shuffled their feet a little. "Um… you wouldn't happen to have any spare keys, would you?" one of them asked.

"Sorry. He's got one," he said, nodding to the drooling Hiashi, "but we're taking it."

"Ah – no problem, no problem! We'll just – just keep on looking, won't we!" one boy said quickly, with far too much cheer as he pushed his partner back towards the forest. "Sorry to bother you!"

They were gone almost as quickly as they'd arrived, and Minato exchanged a mild shrug with Kushina. He crouched down and extracted the last key from Hiashi's pouch and held it out to show Mikoto when she dropped down from the tree above. "We have all the keys we need now," he told the girls. "Let's find out what's in those lockers!"

"Me first!" Kushina grabbed the key he held out with her functioning hand and wheeled off in the direction of the outpost. "Last one there is a rotten fish!"

Mikoto, cheered at the sight of her unconscious former teammates, took off after Kushina with a laugh and Minato, not really minding if he was declared a rotten fish, followed behind.

* * *

It turned out that the three genin who had beaten them had been none other than Saburou and his teammates; Chouza and Chichi. They were the only team who had made it from start to finish without falling to pieces. Most of the other genin arrived alone or in pairs, and Minato felt some unusual satisfaction to see Shikaku and Inoichi turn up after the deadline, having lost their keys to none other than the Hyuuga twins. Ai and her Uchiha arrived with only one key between them, which caused a tremendous fight outside the tree as they fought over who would open the locker.

Ultimately, as Minato had suspected, it didn't matter. Points were indeed awarded to those who had ended the test with keys, but more points went to those whose teams had survived, so that a team who had arrived at the outpost with no keys at all were individually given more points than those such as the Hyuuga boys who had evicted their comrade. Naturally this didn't go down awfully well with those who had gone to great lengths to stab their teammates in the back for a key, but it meant Minato and his team were awarded maximum points despite their unconventional alliance. And most importantly, Minato's perfect score was intact. Something his sensei took great delight in.

"Saburou, Minato," Jiraiya-sensei grabbed the shoulders of his students passionately. "You are definitely boys after your sensei's heart."

Ai, who had been standing there with her arms folded and her foot tapping for quite some time, made a disgusted sound and stormed away. Minato felt a little sorry for her flunking the second test like that, even if her betrayal of Kushina had been to his own advantage. In retrospect that was probably what bugged her the most – not that she'd failed, but because she'd failed in such a way that had guaranteed _him_ a perfect win.

"I'm sure she'll see the funny side one day," Minato's sensei whispered to him, "I never could seem to get through to her about the whole teamwork thing though…"

Perhaps that was because Jiraiya had not been teaching Ai or Saburou as long as he'd taught Minato. In fact Minato couldn't actually remember a time when Jiraiya hadn't been his sensei, since he'd been placed extraordinarily early with a jonin teacher after frankly scaring some of his early academy teachers with his ability to teach _them_ a thing or two. Ai and Saburou hadn't joined him for several years, when it was then decided that Minato would benefit from a team, and Air and Saburou would benefit from him.

In some ways that had worked. In others, it really hadn't.

"Ai's a decent fighter," Minato said encouragingly. "She'll probably do much better in the next test."

"Even if she doesn't, these tests are a learning experience in themselves, Minato," his sensei pointed out. "People grow from failure as much as success. That's something I fear you don't have nearly enough experience with."

"You want me to lose the next test?" Minato offered.

"Ah – no, you're ok."

Further along the fence that bordered the Forest of Doom, Minato could see Kushina with her own sensei, receiving praise. It was strange to see her looking so bashful, looking down at her shoes as her sensei patted her head. He had to take back all the apprehension he'd felt about Hatake Sakumo's teaching methods; the man was clearly very soft on Kushina.

Still… that didn't mean he wasn't scary towards everyone else, so Minato hung back and waited for him to leave before detaching from his sensei to approach Kushina. She was still glowing with pleasure and pride when he sidled up beside her, clutching the token from the locker she'd opened against her mouth.

"What do you suppose those mean?" he asked her, holding up his own identical token. It was nothing more than a piece of card with a number written on it. In his case it was the number 2. Kushina apparently had the same number but he'd noticed that other genin had different numbers.

"Dunno," Kushina flapped her card, fanning her grubby, sweat-streaked face. "Kinda lame. I thought there would be piles of gold in those lockers or something the way everyone was carrying on."

"Disappointed?"

"Don't know what I'd do with a pile of gold," she admitted. "Probably buy some new shoes."

As she looked ruefully down at her mud-caked sandals, Minato smiled. "You know, you're in the top five. You're sensei looked pleased."

She wrinkled her nose. "I think he's kinda worried really…"

That surprised him. Why would any teacher be worried about his student _doing well?_

"He doesn't want me to be a chunin really," she explained at his puzzled expression. "Chunin have to fight the wars. Ninety-five percent of the ones getting killed are chunin. Sensei reckons it's a death sentence to pass the exam at a time like this… if you get called up that's the end of it."

Such odds had never concerned Minato, but suddenly he understood that taking this exam could demand a whole lot more courage from someone like Kushina than someone like himself. If he was called up, he'd be ok. But even he had had a few anxious thoughts about his friends in the same position.

"Are you worried?" he asked her.

"No!" she protested. "I'm not a coward."

But she wasn't totally indifferent. That was plain to see in the apprehensive scowl on her face. Her mouth regularly told some whopping lies, but Kushina's face was a wonder in its expressiveness. "You can always drop out," he suggested idly, hoping he didn't sound like he was questioning her ability.

She glared at him. "If I get left behind you might threaten to tutor me again."

"Not if I get called up," he reassured her.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she half turned away from him. "Don't joke about that."

Minato gaped at her like one of her beloved fish. He'd struck a raw nerve, but… why? How could anyone worry about _him_ getting called up?

"Genin!"

The stern examiner was back. She had appeared by the gates they had originally assembled around and was snapping her fingers for attention. "Gather round, please! Let's get this over with!"

The genin obediently scuttled around her – at a safe distance of course – and observed the respectful kind of dead-eyed silence that this examiner expected of them. "Now," she began, "those of you who opened a locked should now have a card and a number in your position, correct? This is your reward for obtaining a key and will be vital for the third and final test which, as you should know, will be a battle tournament taking place a week from now. Each of you holding a number will notice that there will be one other person holding the same number."

The card-holding genin looked around, and Minato, already knowing who held the same number, looked at Kushina.

"These numbers indicate your first opponent. Take a long, hard look at the person holding your number, for you will face them in one week. You have been given the opportunity to study their strengths and weaknesses, so use this advantage wisely."

Astonished and excited mutters broke out among the genin. "Kinda glad I lost that key," Shikaku could be overheard saying. "Wouldn't like to be the kid who drew against Minato."

Kushina's eyes snapped on Minato, all the colour draining from her face.

He swallowed. "Kushina…"

But what was left to say? The red-haired girl turned and stormed away, a few jeers and laughter following her, since the exam was as good as over for her. She wouldn't even pass the first round of the tournament. The sharp-edged examiner barked them all back into submission, but the damage was done.

Kushina had been quite tolerant of Minato in many ways, but he doubted she would forgive him for this.

* * *

TBC


	5. A Test of Strength

**The Girl from Whirlpool**

Chapter Five: A Test of Strength

* * *

Kushina did not speak to him once that week. He had seen her several times down in the training yard, practising furiously with her apparently bottomless well of energy. She'd turned into a steely, determined drone, one who no longer registered his existence beyond the fact that they were matched together in the first round of a tournament that was rapidly approaching.

And not only was Kushina refusing to speak to him, but Ai too also bore a grudge against him for figuring out the spirit of the second test. Saburou wasn't talking to him either, come to think of it, but since that was normal, Minato didn't worry too much about this. He instead clung close to his sensei's side for that week, wheedling him to practise some basic moves that he could already perform blindfolded, or else just leeching his company. It seemed like his sensei was the only one who liked him these days. Even Inoichi and Shikaku were avoiding him, ashamed as they were of backstabbing him, and perhaps a little wary of vengeance. Everyone else was simply too busy preparing for the final test to bother much with him, or perhaps they too were avoiding him almost superstitiously, as if speaking to him might invoke the wrath of the gods of probability, resulting in them being paired against him in the tournament.

"Hold this for me, Minato," Jiraiya-sensei said, handing his student his binoculars as he resettled on the library rooftop. This was his new hobby, he'd said. 'Ornithology'. Apparently that meant bird watching, but his sensei seemed to be ignoring a perfectly valid looking hawk hanging out in a nearby tree in favour of watching a whole other kind of bird.

So while most of Minato's friends were buckling down and training hard for the coming tournament, Minato was assisting his sensei in spying on his own teammate, the village's most beautiful – and violent – kunoichi, Tsunade. Although, he told himself, he was only doing this because if he didn't help his sensei in his endeavours to be the village's biggest sex pest, there was a good chance that this particular woman would kill his sensei.

But now there was also the good chance that she would kill Minato too.

"Maybe we could do something else, sensei," he said warily, keeping an eye on the apartment opposite.

"Like what?"

"Aren't there… other women… less dangerous women?"

"Minato, Minato, Minato," Jiraiya sighed, taking back the binoculars to refocus on his teammate's apartment window. "When twitching, one does not seek out a common blackbird when there is a bird of paradise about."

If Tsunade was a bird of paradise, what kind of hellish version of paradise did this refer to? And if a bird could punch a hole in the earth's crust, one should really evaluate their ornithological hobby and see if there weren't any safer, less fatal alternatives. Like knitting. Jiraiya-sensei really might enjoy knitting if he just got-

"Dear god, get down!"

Sensei's large hand landed on top of his head like a brick, and they both flattened themselves against the rooftop as the elusive, lesser-spotted blonde came to her window and pushed it open. She didn't appear to notice the pair of gargoyles on the library rooftop. Perhaps because she was a little preoccupied by the pale-haired man who came up behind her to playfully wrap his arms around her waist.

It appeared that they'd come across some sort of mating dance.

"Dan," Jiraiya-sensei sighed disgustedly, lowering his binoculars as if he could no longer stomach the sight. "What a fungus. Remind me to ask the Hokage to send that guy on a suicide mission."

"Can we do something else?" Minato asked, because this development might mean his sensei was finally open to other activities.

Jiraiya-sense sighed even more loudly. "I guess," he intoned. "I should be training you anyway. Haven't you got some sort of test next week? Where's Ai and Saburou?"

"Trying to train in secret," Minato said glumly, "They're kinda avoiding me."

"Huh."

After seeing Dan so unexpectedly, Jiraiya-sensei was a little low-spirited for the rest of the day, though he willingly went along with Minato to a meadow outside the village to resume work on his stamina; one of the few areas left he had that needed any improvement. Well, _that_, and his mutiny-radar which had proven itself awfully rusty in the last test.

Yes, he was still quite bitter about that.

After three hours of intensive ninjutsu work, Minato collapsed into the grass beside his sensei, sweat damp in his hair and his joints aching from so much discharged chakra. He glanced across at the older man and saw he was scribbling something into his notebook, tongue between his teeth.

"What are you writing?" Minato panted. It didn't seem like his customary fiction writing, since he wasn't sniggering or leering.

"Once upon a time," said his sensei, "a large toad asked me to chronicle my whole life."

Minato blinked. That hadn't been the answer he'd expected. "Why?"

"Because he said one day I would have a student who would either be the world's salvation or bring about the world's destruction." He raised an eyebrow at Minato.

"I don't think I'll destroy the world," Minato said thoughtfully.

"I was worried about you once," Jiraiya admitted to him. "A lot of boys in your position, who are born exceptionally gifted by a mere stroke of luck or the whim of a divine hand… they grow to be corrupted by their own power. They turn arrogant and narcissistic; utterly convinced of their own perfection and genius and contemptuous of anyone and everyone weaker than themselves, as if the only measure of a human being is power."

Jiraiya took a deep long sigh and looked up at the cloudless sky. For a long time he said nothing, and Minato wondered if he was thinking of someone he knew. Perhaps Orochimaru-sama? Everyone knew of the tumultuous relationship between those two men. Frankly, Minato had had more than a few nightmares about the pale-faced, snake-eyed man. There was no doubt he was incredibly gifted, perhaps even more so than Jiraiya-sensei, and that wasn't fair. Why should the heartless man be the stronger of the two?

Although perhaps that was what Jiraiya-sensei was trying to tell him. Those who had more power felt the temptation to dominate others the most because they _could_.

"You're not like that," his sensei said at last. "I wish I could take credit for it, Minato, but I don't think you were born with a bad bone in your body."

But that didn't strike Minato as entirely true. He didn't believe that a person was born a certain way and could never change – surely people were formed by the others around them? That was why wars started generations ago were still going on, because the old generation passed their hatred onto their children. Who Minato was had been decided by the people who had raised him… and at the root all his memories, and all the thoughts and philosophies and warnings and advice that he'd taken into his heart, was his sensei. And for as long as he could remember, Minato knew the only person he had ever wanted to be when he grew up was Jiraiya.

How could the man not see that?

"You probably get it from your mother," his sensei continued blithely. "I don't think there was a time when the whole village wasn't in love with her. Or maybe you take after your father – your real one, I mean. Whoever that is."

"It's you."

Jiraiya-sensei sat bolt upright, looking horrified. "Minato – I swear – I never touched your mother!"

"No… I mean… you're as good as." Minato said, looking away and feeling extremely hot in the face in a way that couldn't be accounted for by the strenuous training. "My dad, I mean."

Jiraiya stilled for a moment and then looked away too. "Huh."

Now Minato had no idea what to say. An awkwardly _touched_ silence had fallen between them, and he couldn't help but smile and bite his lip as his sensei cleared his throat gruffly and said. "Big brother, maybe. I'm way too young to be your dad."

"I guess."

A large bear-sized hand landed on his head to ruffle his hair and they grinned at one another before falling into a more companionable silence. Jiraiya returned to his book, Minato returned to staring at the sky, wondering about the imminent tournament and just what the hell he was going to do about the first round. He was up against Kushina, for goodness sakes.

He would win, of course. It was just a question of how to go about it. He could defeat her quickly, as if she were any other opponent. She might prefer that over being patronised if he pulled his punches and let her land a few. It was out of the question to deliberately lose to her… she had her pride, and besides…

He didn't really want to see her become a chunin.

A small sigh escaped Minato, unbeknownst to him. His sensei picked it up easily enough. "What's up?"

Minato was glad he'd asked. He'd been wanting to confide his troubles with his sensei, he just hadn't known how to break it. "What do you think the chances are that we'll be called up after we become chunin?" he asked.

His sensei looked surprised. "Are you worried?"

"Not for me…"

"Ah. Your friends," Jiraiya-sensei nodded with a knowing twinkle in his eye that suggested he knew exactly which friend Minato was most worried about. At least he'd had the decency not to say 'your Kushina' again. That had been embarrassing. "It's natural to be worried. I'm a jonin and most of my friends are jonin, and I still worry about them."

"But do you think any of the new chunin will be sent to the frontlines?" Minato persisted. "I mean, even if some of them have the technical skill to pass, none of them have really gone up against a real enemy before and that's hugely different from sparring with dummies full of straw."

"Yes," Jiraiya-sensei said slowly. "But it's not something I can be certain of, Minato. The Hokage is a very reasonable man… I can't see him sending off a fresh batch of chunin to the frontlines when there are still more experienced reserves available, but…"

Uh-oh. "But?"

"Well, you know relations with the rain country haven't been very good lately. Their leader, Hanzou, is spoiling for a fight and it doesn't look like he'll back down. It's possible that we'll be at war with them too by the end of the year, and with the number of supporters he has, it would take all our reserves and more to match him. At which point, yes, it might be very likely that your classmates will be sent to fight."

"Oh." Minato began worrying his lip.

"But," his sensei continued emphatically, "that's just a worst case scenario. There's a good chance that Hanzou will pick a fight with Suna or Iwa instead, so I'm sure we won't have to deal with another war and your friends will be safe. Look on the bright side of things, Minato. Worrying will just give you an ulcer."

Minato wanted to believe his sensei, and so he did. Unfortunately, Jiraiya's reassurances proved to be a little empty, as war _did_ break out between the fire country and the rain country before the end of the year. In fact, it broke out only three days after that conversation in the meadow, during the last test of the chunin exam of all times.

And Minato was the cause.

* * *

Sleep had not come easy the night before the tournament. For hours he'd tossed and turned, listening to his father's snores in the other bedroom, and worrying. Constantly worrying.

He'd never worried like this for any other test, like any other normal child, and unlike any other normal child he was not worrying about doing his best and passing. Instead he was contemplating _doing his worst_ and risking _failure_.

Minato went downstairs and warmed a glass of milk, hoping that would send him off. When it didn't, he gathered his blanket and went to stretch out on the floor, hoping it would simulate those long nights spent camping with his team when he never had any trouble falling into a happy, contended sleep. When _this_ failed, he punched his pillow repeatedly and growled aloud.

Why him? _Why him?_ What had he done to deserve being cast against Kushina, so that anything he did tomorrow would end in her never speaking to him ever again. He'd had a week to decide what to do, and yet the answer still eluded him. If he let her win, she'd resent him for not taking her seriously. If he beat her, her pride would be injured to be knocked out in the very first round. If they drew, she'd be knocked out anyway because he had accumulated a higher score during the previous tests.

"Doomed…" he muttered weakly into his pillow as the sun began to rise behind the Hokage monument. "Doomed."

All in all, he ended up with just three hours of sleep.

Naturally, Minato being Minato, this was plenty, and he leapt up as fresh as a spring daisy the next morning to the sound of his alarm clock, almost as if he hadn't been kept awake the whole night by guilt.

At once he made his way down to the indoor arena where the tournament would be held. A few jittery genin were already present, as spectators were beginning to dribble in. This was, after all, a fairly big event. Every chunin exam ended with a tournament, and while this was a matter of great fear and trepidation for the participants, it was an opportunity for entertainment and bonding for everyone else, like any other spectator sport. The stands would get pretty crowded by the time the first match kicked off. Minato could see uniformed nin checking each spectator at every entrance, reminding him that while this was only entertainment as far as the villagers were concerned, this was also a politically volatile event. Every village sent spies to every other village's exams, and today it would not only be his fellow Konoha citizens cheering him on. Today he would be under the calculating scrutiny of elites from Iwa, Suna, Kumo, Kiri, and Ame.

He wasn't too worried, however. Rarely did this lead to any confrontations during chunin exams. No village really cared that spies infiltrated these matches. It was a point of pride it seemed, to show off new talent to old enemies.

Minato found his team in their allotted changing room. Ai was pumped and ready for anything, though her opponent had yet to be decided. Saburou who, like Minato, had gotten a key in the last test, already knew his first opponent was Chichi. It was hard to tell if he was confident or not about this match-up as he expressed himself so very little, but since Chichi was a renowned weapons expert who could shoot a flea of a dog's back with a kunai, he couldn't have been feeling too cocksure. His match was first, anyhow.

"How you feeling?" Jiraiya-sensei asked Minato when he appeared.

Minato shrugged. He still hadn't really decided what he was going to do about Kushina.

"Why do you bother asking?" Ai groused. "You know he's going to win the whole damn thing."

"Ai-chan is a little nervous," Jiraiya said smoothly over the top of her head.

This did more to ruffle her feathers than was probably wise.

In fact they were all a little antsy as not much was said while they sat and watched the rest of the genin and their teachers arrive, and listened to the increasing crowd noise in the stadium that was far more accurate than any clock in telling them the hour of their humiliation was at hand.

But with five minutes before the start of the first match, Minato noticed that Kushina had not yet arrived. No one else appeared to notice this as the noise from the stadium began to reach a crescendo. When the stern examiner entered, Minato really began to panic. This was it – the test was finally beginning and yet there was no sign of Kushina!

"Good, you're all here," the examiner said bluntly, whose arithmetic was apparently lacking, as she strode across the changing room to a white board near the far wall. Here, she whipped out a pen and began drawing squeaky blue brackets across it, labelled one to nine. "The first four matches are already decided. The rest of you listen closely: your matches were decided randomly this morning and are as follows…"

She read out a list of names and wrote them down on the board as she announced which match they would take. Mostly this was taken in grim silence, but occasionally this resulted in a hiss of despair, like with the two boys who were drawn against the Hyuuga twins, and Inoichi and Shikaku, who were draw against each other. Ai drew against the wild Tsume Inuzuka, and took this with a sniff and folded arms, so she must have thought her chances were pretty good.

Yet where was Kushina?

"Ah, Mitarashi-san," Jiraiya-sensei interjected suddenly. "Minato's opponent doesn't seem to have turned up…?"

The examiner looked at him coolly. "If she doesn't turn up it will be an automatic forfeit and Namikaze will move straight on to round two with whoever won match one."

"She'll turn up," Minato insisted. For all his desperate calculations of all the variables that would take place today, he had simply not accounted for the idea that Kushina would just… chicken out. That seemed absurd. It didn't correlate with the girl he knew at all. Sure, at the academy, she'd been a work-shy, highly unmotivated little toad, but even when everything had seemed hopeless, she'd never simply _not_ turned up. She'd never given up! Come hell or high water, she'd always been sitting in her chair every morning, ready to be bombarded for another day with things she couldn't understand, enduring the suspicion from everyone that she was a no-talent idiot.

She wouldn't give up now.

"I don't see why _you_ should get a free pass," Ai muttered to him. "I don't blame her. It's pointless fighting you, but at least have the guts to go down with a fight… the little coward."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he whispered back through locked teeth.

If Kushina wasn't here it was because something was wrong. Kushina wasn't a coward. She'd survived the collapse of her village and had braved trenches full of corpses just to retrieve a headband. The idea that she would be scared off by a match against him was laughable, and anyone who dared to call her a coward was ignorant beyond comprehension. Ai could only wish she was half the girl Kushina was.

"Saburou, Chichi," the examiner said at last, looking at her watch. "Please come with me."

It was time. The two genin stood in silence, gathered their equipment, and followed the examiner through the tunnelled corridor that led to a set of wooden doors. Jiraiya and Chichi's instructor went with them. The moment these doors opened, such a noise flooded in louder than ever at the sight of the first challengers. The five of them disappeared into the bright lights and the rest of the genin tiptoed after them to gather around the opening eager to watch the battle commence.

Minato hung back. "Where is Kushina?" he asked nobody in particular.

Mikoto's brother shrugged, eyes on Saburou and Chichi as the examiner blew on her whistle. "It's sort of expected a few of your opponents would back out."

"Kushina wouldn't do that," he insisted.

Ai put on an airy tone of mockery. "_Kushina wouldn't do that_," she mimed. "Who cares what Saint Kushina would and wouldn't do. Most people would be happy their opponent hadn't turned up. Just act like a normal person for _one_ day, Minato. The martyr act gets annoying after a while."

"Ai - you – just _shut up!_" Minato snapped at her, earning surprised stares from everyone else in the admittedly crowded little passage. Even Ai seemed a little shocked, gaping at him as she was.

That was all Minato had, unfortunately. He wanted badly to rail on her and articulate exactly how unbelievably rude and unfair she was being in a way that would shame and humble her, but it was not to be. The fight was distracting everyone and the terrible tied-tongue syndrome struck again. With too much to say and no way to say it, he simply paced and quietly fumed to himself. Kushina would be along any moment. Any moment now she would walk in the doors and-

The doors opened. Minato spun around.

In walked Hatake Sakumo, followed by a pale-faced Kushina. She took one look at Minato's elated face and sighed. _"Why are you happy to see me, you idiot?"_ her expression seemed to say. But she did not look to him scared or angry or anything else he'd been worried she would feel. She did not look well perhaps, yet there was a grim determination to her features that said she was ready for anything.

And so Minato could not stop smiling like an idiot.

Kushina did not even get an opportunity to approach him before a shouted groan echoed from the stadium and half the genin hissed and cringed. A new roar of applause shook the passage and the genin at the doors parted way. Chichi came back into the changing room looking sweaty but happy. Saburou didn't return at all.

"They took him off in a stretcher," Chichi said, flopping down to begin reorganising her weapons and scrolls for the next fight. Minato wanted to find out more, but at that moment the stern examiner reappeared to beckon to him and Kushina.

This was it.

Minato's mouth went inexplicably dry as he squared his shoulders joined Kushina down the short walk through the tunnel towards the stadium. If she was nervous, she didn't show it. As usual, whenever something troubled Kushina she merely looked more annoyed than usual, but this close it was easy to see how tired she look. How hard had she been training over the last week?

"Good luck, Minato!" came some cheers from the other genin beside them. "Pound her, Minato!"

That was odd. Normally when he sparred with someone, his friends always cheered for his opponent. It was so customary that he would win a fight that it was only decent to cheer for the underdog who had no hope. But Kushina was different. She was the outsider, and there was nothing they would enjoy more than seeing her fail.

And then, out of the blue…

"_KICK HIS ASS, KUSHINA!_" Mikoto shouted, louder than anyone.

Well, after that, no one could think of anything else to say at all.

"Good luck, Kushina," he said to her too as they stepped out into the stadium.

If she said anything in return, it was drowned out completely by the sudden roaring cheer from the crowd. This was, after all, the match they had all been waiting for. Minato was the village's darling new hope and his performance had been anticipated for years. Some might think that this was a lot of pressure and expectation to put on young shoulders, but the only person Minato really cared about pleasing right then was his opponent.

They walked to the centre of the stadium – a wide matted space covered with an inch or two of sand that had been disturbed quite a lot already from the previous fight. Minato blinked against the strong lamps above them to look for his sensei among the spectators on their raised stands, but perhaps he was still attending Saburou. It was doubtful that his father was there either.

How odd, to have a stadium cheering his name but no one who really knew him.

After a brief exchange with her teacher, in which he appeared to ask her something and she nodded jerkily, Minato and Kushina took a formal bow and took their places opposite one another. The examiner lifted her arm and pressed the whistle to her lips.

The stadium went quiet.

Suddenly the whistle blew and the examiner's arm dropped. A tentative sound of encouragement echoed from the stands, but neither opponent moved. They were still sizing each other up.

What to do? Minato's mind raced. He could come up behind her in the blink of an eye and knock her to the ground with one hit if he so chose, but he hesitated, waiting to see what she would do. He would take his cues from her.

Kushina moved, settling fluidly back into her trademark Whirlpool stance – one hand raised behind her and one flat before her. Her foot lifted off the ground, offering a display of perfect balance, something he could upset so very easily faster than she could exhale. He still didn't move.

Gradually the crowd began to mutter its impatience. They'd come to see a fight hadn't they? And wasn't this the most promising genin of this century? Why was he just standing there?

Kushina's eyes narrowed on him ever so slightly. Did she suspect he was holding back on her? Was that anger he saw rising in her face? Crap. Better move.

A nice easy fire-based jutsu would do well here. Strategically it was weak against Kushina's speciality, wind, but impressive looking enough not to look like he was going easy on her. Kushina registered the seals as he performed them and performed her own, and as the ring of exploded at her feet and raced to encompass her, she merely stamped her foot and extinguished the flames with a burst of pure nature chakra.

He closed the gap between them. Immediately Kushina shifted into her regular taijutsu stance, so familiar that he already knew the kata she was about to execute. He would block the arm that would strike from the right, and perhaps let her counter-punch land against his chest as it was weaker – then he'd block that kick with his knee and-

Barely inches from her, Kushina's stance changed. Whirlpool style was gone. She'd stepped straight back into Konoha's standard style and before he realised what she was up to, she'd kicked him in the stomach. Her first smacked his chin and her other hand landed flat on his chest. A moment later, he was bowled backwards by a surge of wind chakra that left him flat on his arse, staring at her incredulously.

In a real fight… she might have just sliced him in half.

The crowd was in shock. The faces peering from the entrance of the changing room were staring agog. Even Minato gaped. He'd thought he was in total control there… but for a moment it had escaped him.

"Take me seriously, please," Kushina said quietly, although only he could hear her. "I'm not going to let you win."

He got to his feet and dusted sand off his pants. "I'm not going to let you win either," he said.

"We'll see."

Kushina swept up her arms and a blast of wind picked up a cloud of sand and whipped it around him. For a moment he was blind. He fought her chakra with his own, cancelling the wind out so suddenly the sand dropped out of the air. The sight of three Kushina's greeted him, but only one could be real. He moved – faster than anyone in the audience of even Kushina could follow, and tackled the nearest clone. It dissipated. So did the second. So did the third.

Ah. He heard the real Kushina's foot scrape in the sand behind him and turned in time to block another well-aimed kick – and noticed she'd moved back into her Whirlpool style to confuse him. Giving her a taste of her own medicine, he blew her backwards and watched her roll head over heels away from him. He paused to allow her to stand, though she did so far too gingerly for how little he'd touched her. She was even clutching her stomach and looking especially grey, though he knew he hadn't landed any hits on her.

A more enjoyable buzz from the crowd surrounded them now. People were still chanting his name, and most likely no one knew Kushina's, but this was a fight they hadn't expected and perhaps some were looking at this girl with new respect.

Minato only let his attention wander for a moment, back to the stands in search of Jiraiya again, and Kushina took the opening. A column of sand attempted to smash him into the ground. He avoided it was a nimble sideways dodge, and when he looked around again, now five Kushina were racing towards him. That was fine. Once he took out these five bunshin the real Kushina would reveal herself again and perhaps he would stick her with a sky quicksand jutsu to trap her in one place.

Faster than a bullet, Minato tackled the bunshin. One, two, three – they dissipated. Four – solid body met solid body and them went crashing to the ground.

"What?" he blinked, realising that the body trapped beneath his was perfectly real.

Ha! She'd double-bluffed him, expecting him to assume they were all bunshin and ignore them all this time. But that was one bluff too far for Minato. That would show her for overestimating his intelligence!

God… she was so soft…

"Would – you – get – off – those!" Kushina ground out beneath him, twisting around and looking terribly uncomfortable. Her face was getting redder. That was an improvement from grey but it was still a bad sign.

Minato looked down at the incredible softness he was grabbing onto and realised, for the first time, that the rumours of Kushina's proportions had not been an exaggeration at all. He stared.

And no bra to speak of at all…

A hard spike of a knee jabbed against his stomach and Minato hastily rolled away as Kushina attempted to headbutt him. For real. If she shot her wind jutsu at him now she definitely would slice him in half. Scrambling to his feet, Minato dabbed his runny nose with the back of his hand. It came away with blood.

"_She got him!"_ he distinctly heard someone from the changing room entrance scream excitedly over the din of the outraged crow. _"She drew first blood!"_

Odd, Minato thought, sniffing and gulping back the flow of warm, metallic blood. He didn't think she had hit him…

"Damn… pervert…" Kushina hissed, getting to her feet. She seemed to be having more trouble than him, clutching her stomach and standing with a stoop.

"What's wrong?" he called, puzzled at her state now when they had sparred for longer and harder than this on several occasions. "I barely touched you."

Kushina didn't answer. She was nearly bent double now, gasping in pain. Something was very wrong. Minato ran over and touched her shoulder. "Are you ok?" he asked worriedly. "Kushina?"

"It's nothing!" she snapped at him, beginning to blink back tears. Not of pain, perhaps, but of mortification. "_Urgh_! This isn't fair!"

A whistle blew nearby and Minato saw the stern examiner jogging over. "What's the matter with her?" she demanded impatiently. The puzzled hum of the crowd filled the air like a swarm of bees. Minato, utterly confused, just shook his head. "I don't know. She – I – I barely touched her and she started like this."

The examiner rolled her eyes at him and shoved her handkerchief at him. "Wipe your nose, for gods sakes." She turned to Kushina. "There's nothing wrong with you a little aspirin can't fix," she admonished. "Is this your first?"

Kushina nodded, her face back to grey. Minato stared in bewilderment, unable to comprehend what was going on. Was this some secret code he hadn't been let in on? Was this Kushina's first _what_?

"Unlucky," the examiner said, with more compassion than Minato had ever heard in her voice. "You can't fight like this, however, you'll have to forfeit. Go with the medic now."

She gestured one of the white-coated medics over and palmed Kushina off on her. Her sensei, Hatake Sakumo, appeared spectacularly fast to scold her as she was being led away. "I told you so…" Minato heard him saying.

Kushina's response was just a pained, angry groan.

The examiner looked at Minato. "Congratulations," she said dryly. "You're through to the second round."

"I don't understand," he said. "What's wrong with her."

She sighed with a faint shrug. "It happens occasionally. At this age, and with more and more girls competing, clashes occur."

"What?" The examiner might as well have spoken Latin to him.

She rolled her eyes at him again. "Her _period,_" she said, in a way that seemed to suggest there was a silent 'you stupid boy' at the end of her statement.

The examiner chose then to stride away from him, shouting the results of the match to the gregarious crowd, leaving Minato to make his own way back to the changing room where everyone clapped him on the shoulders and made funny of his bloody nose. "Got you good, did she?" Inoichi laughed.

Minato went to sit down alone on one of the benches as Mikoto's battle against Chouza commenced, and that was where Jiraiya found him when he returned.

"Minato? How was your match?"

Minato blinked owlishly up at him. "Sensei?" he asked. "What's a period?"

* * *

The rest of the day commenced pretty much as expected after that point. He fought the winner of the first match next - Chichi - and knocked her unconscious in less than three seconds, for if you were fast enough to avoid her spectacularly offensive arsenal, it was easy to slip between her weaker defences. This had been essentially what the spectators had been waiting for all morning, and a deafening roar burst out at his swift victory.

His next opponent was Inoichi; someone Minato had been hoping to meet. It was true that he hadn't quite forgiven this boy for turning on him in the last test, and without the element of surprise and Shikaku to back him up, Inoichi took one look at his opponent and knew he was screwed.

As they took their places in the sand and waited for the examiner to blow her whistle, Minato warmed up a little with a few stretches… and then executed a practise kata so fast that Inoichi could not follow it with his eyes, and he stood staring at Minato in mute shock. Well. It had been a while since the days of the academy and he'd picked up a few things in his first couple of years as a genin that his school chums had no idea about. They all knew his speed was legendary but…

"Holy shit…" Inoichi muttered under his breath, and almost at once the blonde boy's arm shot into the air and he speedily forfeited the match before Minato got the chance to make him eat sand.

A little disappointing, but this put Minato safely into the finals against Mikoto's own brother, who was far too full of himself to back down to anyone. With everyone else eliminated, it was just the two of them and this final match that would decide the tournament's champion.

"Good luck, Minato," Uchiha Mikoto said quietly, who had been knocked out in the second round by said brother, which was, she said, something that probably wouldn't disappoint her father too badly. Though it was a pity he'd felt the need to break her wrist in order to win the battle, and now she was sitting with a medic getting it reset, and looking as grey-faced as Kushina had earlier.

Minato wasn't sure he liked Uchiha Kisuke too much. As a rule, he disliked thinking badly of others who weren't particularly friendly, as who knew what kind of issues such a person had to deal that might have made them anti-social, unhappy, or difficult to communicate with. Kushina, for instance, was difficult to like by most people's standards, but by most people would fortunately never have to go through what she had, and Minato wondered how anyone who knew Kushina's history could possibly hold it against her.

Kisuke was another matter. No matter how Minato looked at him, he was just an ass without an excuse. His life up until now was a glut of privilege; he had wealth, he had friends, a large and prestigious extended family, _and,_ it was rumoured, he had the legendary sharingan.

None of which entitled him to act like such a self-important bastard, or indeed _break his little sister's wrist_ in a friendly fight. He had yet to even speak to Mikoto as far as Minato could tell, let alone come over and apologise or express any concern. This and the fact that he had, with Ai, turned on Kushina and chased her off their team in the last test did not endear him much to Minato. Although Kisuke showed a fair amount of professional respect to him on most occasions, he'd never been warm to him or anyone else outside his usual little clique, comprised of fellow Uchiha boys. But that was how it was with most Uchiha. Although they were part of this village – and were in fact descended from the original founders – they always kept themselves apart from everyone else, living in their own little gated community and viewing everyone else as near invisible. It seemed like every other year there were rumours racing around that the Uchiha clan was going to split ways with Konoha and leave. Minato found that troubling. The number one rule of being a ninja was loyalty to one's village. The Uchiha, on the other hand, didn't care much for being ruled by anyone but themselves.

Uchiha Kisuke typified every Uchiha stereotype that made Minato uncomfortable. He was also prodigiously strong by the clan's standards, and an ordinary Uchiha was already prodigious enough by normal standards. So Minato didn't know what to expect in this finale. He'd gone along with the flow of the tournament, untroubled and never in any doubt of his abilities. None of his opponents so far had demanded much from him, but perhaps with Kisuke he had to concentrate. He couldn't pull his punches as he'd done with Kushina, or rush the fight without a strategy as he'd done with chichi. The intimidating flourish of speed had worked with Inoichi, but an Uchiha with the sharingan would not be put off by a little fast hand-work. This was a battle he would have to think about.

Good, Minato thought. It had been a while since he'd had an opportunity to get serious in a fight, and Kisuke was one of the few people he could soundly thrash without feeling bad about it.

So he was all smiles as the examiner called his name and he was led out of the changing room one final time to a loud, turbulent stadium who sounded more excited than ever. Probably with good reason. The village's darling against the most promising Uchiha of his generation. They were undoubtedly expecting something interesting at the very least.

Opposite him, Kisuke wasn't smiling at all. He took all his fights seriously, whether they were against his little sister or the village's strongest genin, and while he didn't have much to lose here, he had plenty to gain. Anyone who beat Minato would probably be telling their grandkids about it many years from now, so he took his stance with a scowl of utter concentration. He was perfectly determined to defeat Minato at all costs. In fact his expression kind of reminded him of Kushina's…

With the shouts of support from the genin and the wild encouragement of the spectators, the scene was finally set. Minato settled into a loose, comfortable stance and focused closely on Kisuke, noting the tension was coiled too tightly in his legs and he was already sweating a little. Psychologically, Minato already had the edge, but he was experienced enough to know that advantages could easily be overturned by anyone who had just the right amount of determination.

"Hold, gentlemen," the examiner said bracingly, holding her arm aloft. "On my mark… three…"

Minato exhaled calmly.

"Two…"

Kisuke's eyes began to bleed red. Damn.

"One…"

The whistle's shriek pierced the air and Minato quickly rolled sideways to avoid the blast of an extremely focused katon jutsu. The crowd was going wild, making it impossible to rely on sound in this battle; vision was obviously going to be the most reliable sense here, and sadly, the Uchiha with the sharingan had the advantage there.

That could be changed. Drawing on the very same jutsu Kushina had shown him years ago when he'd been tutoring her, he summoned his chakra and pushing it into a vortex around him. The wind picked up, the flames fizzled out of existence, and the sand began to fill the air. The people in the stands would be very disappointed that their view of the action was suddenly obscured, but as long as Minato kept it up, the sharingan would be less of a problem.

But Kisuke was not to be done in yet. Three figures surrounded him in the sandstorm, so suddenly that Minato barely had time to react and defend himself. A kunai flashed towards him – he blocked it with his own. Another cut towards his side. Minato slipped easily out of its range and drew a second kunai to fend off the third figure. The blows kept raining, faster than ever. Minato's body moved faster and faster, fluidly keeping up with the onslaught of three attackers; two kunai against six, his hands whipping through the air faster than they had in a long time to meet and block, meet and block, duck and dodge. Every time he kicked one clone away another replaced it. Which was the real one? Were any of them real? The problem with his own sandstorm was that that real Uchiha could be standing safely out of sight just a few metres away and Minato wouldn't know it.

Damn. He would have to tackle the sharingan head on after all.

With a shout, he released the energy from the jutsu and struck all three clones down. They disappeared as swiftly as the sand, and there was Kisuke, red-eyed and waiting for him.

Minato ran at him. Kisuke, tracking his every movement with ease, met him blade to blade and forced him to duck another blazing fire jutsu. Just as planned – for when Minato came up he brought a fistful of sand with him and threw it into the other boys face.

"Argh!" Kisuke reeled back, eyes shut, and in those precious few seconds, Minato disappeared.

Or at least, that was how it appeared to everyone else in the stadium. In reality, Minato was sitting in the stands high above Kisuke with a mid-level genjutsu cast around him to avoid detection from his neighbours. If Kisuke looked straight at him, his sharingan would see right through such an illusion, but first he would have to pick him out of a crowd of five thousand. He was camouflaged up here for only as long as he didn't move, but that was ok; he just needed a moment to think.

The sharingan was a problem. Minato relied more than anything on his speed and against the sharingan, a tool that deconstructed movement and allowed the users to anticipate even _his_ kind of speeds, he was severely disadvantaged. It was not something he couldn't overcome with sheer brute-force and stamina, but there had to be an easier way. Unlike the Hyuuga, the Uchiha at least could not see out the back of their heads. This presented a possible weak spot. If he could just keep up a sustained attack from _behind…_

He began to look around the tightly packed benches for some hint of inspiration…

Down in the stadium, Kisuke looked around him warily, eyes watering slightly from the sting of the sand. There was no sign of his opponent, but even he knew better than to think Minato had bailed on the fight. He spun in place, looking for disturbances in the sand that might give away a hidden opponent. Was he underground? Was he in the stands? Kisuke began to scan the crowd…

A shadow flashed over him, like a bird passing overheard. The Uchiha reacted quickly, throwing himself back to avoid the boy who slammed into the ground where he'd just been standing, smashing a tightly wound ball of such pure chakra energy into the ground that sand exploded upwards and the sound of the ground cracking drowned out even the spectators for a moment. Kisuke's shock at such a huge display of power lasted only a moment. Minato had missed. For a fraction of a second he was defenceless, and Kisuke moved in quickly to smash the hilt of his kunai against the back of the blonde boy's head.

Minato exploded.

Just a clone?! After all that?! How could a clone-?

No – it was just a diversion! The real attack had to be coming from behind. Kisuke spun just in time to deflect the kunai of another Minato who had dangerously close to catching him off guard. He slammed his fist against this Minato's stomach, and froze in surprise when this version too exploded into dust.

"Surprise!"

This time Kisuke didn't have time to turn. Something suddenly came down over his head, enveloping him in complete darkness that smelled oddly like old, sweaty socks. He struggled. What the hell? Had this guy pulled a _bag_ over his head? He tried to grab it, to yank it off, but the ties of the sports bag had been pulled tight under his chin, and though given a few seconds he might have been able to unfasten them, it was already too late.

A sharp, measured blow to his chest winded him. Another to his cheek knocked his thoughts loose. His legs were swept out from underneath him, and in those vital few seconds, he was already on his back, unable to comprehend more than the fact that, had this been a real fight, he would be dead now.

The examiner's whistle pierced the air in three short blasts, signalling the fight was over. Minato straightened with a whoosh of a sigh and rolled his shoulders. That had nearly been a close one. For a moment there he'd thought Kisuke would surely notice him hiding there in the dust of the first clone, within the crack in the ground he'd opened up.

Now he probably ought to give that sports bag back to the poor kid in the stands whom he'd stolen it from…

Reaching down, he helped pull the make-shift hood off his opponent's head and then offered him a hand. Kisuke looked a little grudging but not too surprised. Had he really expected to beat Minato anyway?

"And the winner of the twenty-fourth chunin examination tournament _is_," the examiner shouted over the din of the crowd, "Namikaze Minato!"

Screams of jubilation broke out along the stands. Minato thought it quite over the top, but this of course was his first and only tournament he'd ever attended. For the spectators, many of whom had seen all twenty-four tournaments, few had ever seen a boy so advanced and impressive as this, and what they saw in his victory was a hope to see the end of the war… a hope for the village's security and its continued triumph over its adversaries. He did not appreciate the excitement the village felt when it saw him. Nor did he ever suspect the concern he had just inflicted into Konoha's enemies.

Not until he heard those screams of joy turn to screams of horror.

It happened too quickly for Minato fathom. Why was everyone shouting like that? Why was his view of the stands suddenly blocked by all these bodies? Why the hell was Jiraiya-sensei lying on top of him?

"Minato? Minato! Are you ok?" His sensei was shaking him pretty hard.

"Yeah," Minato said, stunned at such a fuss. "Yes, I'm… fine."

Except his side felt rather hot… what was that? He looked down to try and figure out the cause, and all he saw was blood. Quite a lot of blood, actually. Was that… was that his?

A soft sound of surprise escaped him, and as the realisation grabbed him that he was _injured_ he began to feel the pain. It crept up on him slowly, unstoppably, growing worse until he could hardly breathe.

"Why…?" he gasped, fighting the searing agony that held him utterly rigid. He didn't understand this kind of pain. He'd just won the tournament, hadn't he? Where was Kisuke? With so many jonin swarming around, he could barely see anyone other than that strangely dressed man being pinned to the ground a few feet away by the strict examiner and several ANBU. How odd. They were all shouting at this man and wrenching his arms pretty hard behind his back. Was it even a man? Minato couldn't see the person's face for that strange gas mask he wore… was he some kind of diver? He was a bit out of place here, lying in all this sand like Minato. They should probably take this person to the aquarium once they were done kneeling on his head. Seemed like he might be happier there.

"Minato?" Jiraiya-sensei's voice sounded terribly faint. "Minato, stay awake, the medic is here. You're going to be fine."

"I know that," he said, because it seemed obvious. And even though he disliked failing his sensei, he couldn't help it. He fell asleep.

* * *

TBC


	6. Growing Apart

**The Girl from Whirlpool**

Chapter Six: Growing Apart

* * *

It was tempting to say that the next thing Minato knew, he was waking up in a hospital bed, but it was not nearly as simple as that.

For a long time he drifted on the edge of consciousness. He was aware of the moment his sensei lifted him up off the sand and put him on a stretcher, and he'd heard his sensei hurriedly telling the medic that he was unconscious. Minato remembered thinking this wasn't really true. He was perfectly conscious, he just couldn't seem to be bothered opening his eyes or responding to all the irritating people who kept calling his name and shaking him when all he wanted to do was sleep.

Then after that he was aware of lying in a bright room as lots of very professional sounding people continued to paw at him, taking off his clothes and attaching things to him that he didn't care about. He remembered the needle going into his hand – a prick of pain that barely registered compared to the gaping hole in his side, and then for a long time there was nothing but blissful darkness. Apparently they had finally respected his wishes to sleep.

Not much penetrated that darkness. The low murmur of a medic's voice here. A flash of light in his eyes there. At one point he recalled rousing and feeling something uncomfortable pressing down on his face, and he'd lethargically struggled to push it off. Then a softly-spoken woman had appeared some unknown time later to gently scold him and right the oxygen mask once more and then left him.

When the cotton wool wrapped around his brain finally began to fall away, Minato sort of wished it hadn't. With clarity came pain. Gradually, when he opened his eyes they stayed open and he could take a good long look at his surroundings; from the beeping monitors, to the peeling paint on the ceiling, to the red-haired girl snoozing in the chair by his bed. Exhausted by even this small perusal, he closed his eyes and slept again.

The next time he woke he finally felt like himself again. The muggy haze of exhaustion no longer numbed his thoughts and he lay in the pristine white bed, smelling of five kinds of disinfectant and feeling distinctly sorry for himself. There was no one in his room. That was awfully inconsiderate. He'd obviously been badly hurt. Didn't anyone care?

Besides his solitude, the other thing he first noticed upon waking was his amazingly dry mouth. He remembered all that sand on the floor of the stadium and wondered if this was what it felt like to swallow a few gallons of the stuff. He looked around for some help and saw a jug of water and an empty glass on the nightstand. That would probably do. Now if only he could get his shaky hands to cooperate and grab that heavy jug without making a catastrophic mess.

The door creaked open and Kushina walked in, stifling a yawn. "What are you doing?" she asked, seeing him engaged in battle with the water jug. "Want me to do that?"

He sagged back to the bed, because that was far easier. Some unseen stitches in his side were aching like hell now and he was only too happy to let Kushina pick up the jug and pour him a fresh glass of gloriously clear water. He licked his dry lips at the sight.

"The medic said you have to drink it slowly," she warned him as she handed him the glass – and she had to wrap her fingers over his to make sure he didn't drop it as he took his first grateful sip in what felt like a year. "How are you feeling?" she asked after his parched sigh of relief.

So far Kushina didn't seem all that surprised to see he was awake and making a nuisance of himself. She didn't give him wide watery eyes either as if she was even remotely worried about him. This was reassuring.

"Ok, I guess," he said vaguely. He didn't feel great, but his level of discomfort seemed appropriate for the injury he'd sustained, so he couldn't complain.

"Do you remember what happened?" Kushina asked curiously.

He nodded slightly. There were obviously a lot of gaps in his memory and his understanding of what had happened, but he didn't feel too concerned about chasing up details right then. "Why are you here?" he asked instead.

Kushina just looked at him and shrugged. He wondered if he'd made that sound like she should be somewhere else. "Were you worried about me?" he asked.

"No." She scowled like he'd said something lewd.

"Where's Jiraiya-sensei?"

Kushina looked sideways, mouth twisting awkwardly. "He's gone," she said. "They sent him out yesterday – they sent _a lot_ of people out yesterday. He said 'sorry he couldn't stick around to wish you congratulations when you woke up, but it was kind of urgent'."

"Congratulations?" he echoed. For what? Landing himself in hospital?

"For passing the chunin exam," she supplied.

"Oh." He thought. How expected. He looked up at Kushina's closed expression and tentatively asked, "Did you…?"

"No," she said shortly, and scowled again like this was his fault… and it probably was. "It was actually kind of lucky you were hospitalised, or they would have sent you out too. They've already deployed everyone else who passed; Uchiha Kisuke, the Hyuuga twins, Chichi, Akimichi, Nara, and Yamanaka."

"Wait… what?" Minato wheezed. "Deployed where? Why so soon?"

"We're at war with the rain country now," she said with a shrug, as if this was inevitable. "Almost every chunin and jonin in the village has gone to fight."

"_How long have I been asleep_?" he demanded. "Since when were we at war with the rain country?"

Kushina raised her eyebrows at him. "Since… they tried to have you assassinated?" she said slowly. "Duh. I thought you said you remembered."

He definitely didn't remember that bit. "I know I got hurt. I thought it was an accident."

She gave him a slightly pitying look. "You're so naive," she sighed. "You just stood there like a lemming and this guy in a weird mask came out of nowhere. Everyone thought you were dead… you just weren't moving, Minato. You're sensei was so fast – I mean… not as fast as _my_ sensei, but he still saved you. If he hadn't got to you, that weird guy would have stabbed you right through the heart."

And Minato had never even noticed any of it coming. The assassin, the weapon, the killing intent… he'd missed all of it. Hell, he'd been on the ground under his sensei for several seconds before he'd even realised he was hurt.

It humbled him to remember he still had a long way to go before he reached the level of a jonin. Why would the rain country bother assassinating a boy who couldn't even see a hit like that coming? Was he really so much of a threat?

He gestured for the glass of water again and Kushina obliging held it out for him, cradling the back of his head as he took another sip. When it proved a little too ambitious for his poor throat he began to cough – and Kushina was right there with a paper tissue to mop his chin. Minato eyed her warily. She could give the most hardcore tomboy a run for her money, but her motherly nurturing side seemed pretty competent too.

"What about you?" he asked her.

She blinked at him.

"You didn't seem too well during the exam," he recalled. "Are you... better now?"

Minato was discovering he quite liked making Kushina go red, especially when she couldn't hit him. "A gentleman shouldn't ask a lady about such things," she muttered.

"Ok." He didn't really understand all the secrecy about this topic. Even his sensei had been unfortunately vague when Minato had asked him what this 'Period' business was, and the best reply he'd got was that it was a thing that happened to most girls once a month, during which time they became unstoppable killing machines.

If that was true, Minato had been very fortunate indeed to escape with his life, but it was most likely that his sensei was doing his usual thing of masking discomfort with humour. He didn't want to ask Kushina straight out either, since she tended to mask her discomfort with violence, and even if he was hospitalised right now he didn't want to push his luck. Maybe once he got out he'd go find a book about it or something…

"Still," he said. "You're ok now, right?"

She smiled ever so slightly. "Yes. Thank you. But you should probably be feeling more sorry for yourself."

"I am," he assured her. "Because it seems you're the only one who bothered to visit me."

"Oh, I wasn't the only one," she said quickly. "Your dad came by. At least I think he was your dad."

A cold sensation swooped through his stomach at this news. It was even more chilling to hear than the news that he'd single-handedly started a war. "He did?" he asked flatly. God help him, it sounded like Kushina had actually met him. How did he even begin to apologise? "Did you speak to him?"

"A bit. He seemed nice."

Seemed nice? She had to be joking.

"He left this for you," she said, picking something up from the nightstand that had been previously hidden behind a bouquet of flowers. Minato glanced at it once and froze over. That was Mr. Nose, the bead-filled toy elephant he'd had since he was five. The beads in the trunk had of course poured out long ago through a tear in the tip, leaving behind a flaccid scrap of cloth that had seen better days. Actually, all of him had seen better days. His ears definitely hadn't been seen in years.

"I think it's some kind of anteater," Kushina said, turning the lumpy, grey blob with dangly legs over in her hand.

"Ah – hah," Minato forced an embarrassed laugh. "Why did he bring that? He probably thinks I still sleep with him."

This was not to say that Minato _didn't_ still sleep with Mr. Nose. It was just that he'd rather die than let Kushina know it.

Kushina, apparently convinced that Minato didn't share his bed with something so grubby, set Mr. Nose down and began to fiddle with the flower petals of the bouquet. A little card propped between two daisies showed they were from Ai's mother, who had probably sent them very much against her daughter's wishes.

"Once you get better, I think they're going to send you out too," Kushina said sullenly.

If what she had said before was true... "I guess."

"Stupid," she grumbled. "What did you have to go and pass for?"

"I'll be alright," he said. In fact, the thought of jumping into the thick of war was quite an exciting prospect – not because he revelled in the violence of warfare, but because he had a feeling in his gut that he could make a difference. If he could start one, surely he could help finish one too?

Kushina shot him a glare. "You almost _died,"_ she pointed out. "The guy who did that to you… that's the level of people they're asking you to fight out there. You won't stand a chance."

He was a little affronted. "Why not?"

"Because you just existing annoys people, obviously. They nearly succeeded in killing you in your own home village, in front of dozens of jonin and the Hokage himself. They'll try again, and out there you won't stand a chance."

Minato thought about this carefully. She was actually right. He was perhaps far more likely to be killed than any other much weaker chunin for the simple fact that he would be a high priority target for the enemy. And still...

"What should I do then?" he asked. "Stay home and hide under the bed?"

She rolled her eyes and looked away. Maybe that was _exactly_ along the lines of what she'd hoped.

"You're as much of a ninja as I am. You wouldn't run from a fight," he pointed out.

She shook her head. "Knowing when to run is why I'm still alive, Minato," she said.

"I'll know when to run," he said, placating her. "But that isn't now. People's lives depend on war. We have to do everything we can-"

"Why isn't your life important?" she demanded.

"Of course it is," he said with a shrug. "If one life can save a hundred, there's nothing more important."

"And if you get killed before you can help anyone?"

He was silent for a moment, wondering if that was possible. To be killed without ever making a difference? That was a pretty sorry fate and one he planned to avoid at all costs. "I'll be fine," he said simply, because he didn't know how else to communicate to her that everything would be ok. This experience hadn't shaken him and made him doubt his abilities... it had only strengthened his resolve to do better – _be_ better. He would make sure that no one, not even a jonin, could catch him unawares ever again. And even though he couldn't explain it, he knew that he would live.

* * *

Kushina hadn't been kidding about the war or the cause of it. How odd to be the reason why the streets were so quiet and the hospital so full. Once the medics allowed Minato out of bed - and they did so within days because they wanted to give said bed to someone else – he hobbled about on crutches feeling lost. His sensei had gone off to fight. Most of the genin he'd hung out with were on missions, or else were graduated chunin now stationed on a distant frontier, and even the civilian population seemed subdued. Too weak to go back to work and too fit to stay still, Minato was stuck in limbo.

He dedicated his mind and body to two tasks. First: he needed to get better. This task was coming along quite nicely as Minato spent many a night literally naval-gazing and poking at the interesting scar developing below his last rib where his stitches were rapidly dissolving and the tender flesh hardened and scabbed. His medics managed to turn his body's natural metabolic processes into another reason to praise _him_ personally. After all, a normal person would be out for at least three months with a wound like that, but Minato was already able to run a few laps around the training field with barely a twinge of pain after only three weeks – and surely this was because he was a ninja prodigy rather than because he was young and healthy and a little hard-headed.

His second task was to train. As soon as he could run, he ran. As soon as he could jump, he jumped. As soon as he could perform ninjutsu again, there was no stopping him from going back to work on the original jutsu he'd been working on for years, which he decided to dub 'Rasengan'.

What else could he do? Even Kushina had vanished with the rest of her team now that the workload for regular genin had increased tenfold. He supposed he could have spent more time with his father, but that was always a risky venture. Most parents might be a little surprised that their child had instigated an international war, or at least a little concerned. But not Minato's dad. The man seemed perplexed and suspicious of him more than anything. The medics had charged him with the care of a sick son who, they said, needed a lot of care and attention right now, yet this same son was doing star-jumps the moment he rolled out of bed in the morning and rock-climbing every other day. Minato's father appeared to have decided that if he couldn't understand his son, he probably shouldn't bother trying, and they left each other alone.

But Minato did not escape everyone's notice. During his fourth week of 'R and R', and the third week of the rain country conflict, he was approached by a pair of ANBU to be informed that the Hokage wanted to see him. Minato felt a little leery. His first thought was that he was in trouble, though he rarely did anything to deserve a reprimand off anyone, let alone the Hokage. But what if this was about Jiraiya's hinting about becoming the next Hokage? This thought made him quail even more. He didn't really want to be getting wrapped up in such serious business, and something about the Sandaime made him feel weirdly shy when in his presence. The man had such overwhelming gravitas. Minato, on the other hand, had none. Why would anyone think he was Hokage material?

As it turned out, he'd gotten a little ahead of himself. When he arrived in the Hokage's suite, which was like a lavish penthouse in the administration building, the Sandaime said nothing of leadership nominations. "Please have a seat," he gestured to a soft looking recliner set at an angle to a formidable looking armchair. "I understand you've been healing well, but I'd still like you to be comfortable."

Minato perched on the recliner awkwardly as the Hokage took the armchair. That seemed about right. Formidable man; formidable chair. Most people described the Hokage as a kindly old grandfather, but then the Hokage viewed most people as charming grandchildren. It was Minato he viewed differently – as a potential successor that needed vetted and guiding, so it was Minato who saw another side to the man... the one who, unbeknownst to children like him, was tired and jaded by dealing with would-be usurpers and secessionists and friends who smiled to his face and whispered mutinous words behind his back. In his eyes, Minato could grow up to be just another power-hungry dog snapping at his heels, eager to push him into his grave, or the greatest hope the world had for peace.

So Minato wasn't being totally paranoid when he thought the Hokage's stare was a little too intense to be comfortable. "How are you feeling these days?" the Sandaime asked.

"Ok," Minato said, hating the weak, squeaky sound of his voice. The fact that his voice had begun to break recently only revealed itself when he was nervous.

"The village appears to be on tenterhooks with regards to your recovery. It's been a long time since we've had someone pass the chunin exam with a perfect score... longer still since anyone tried to assassinate a genin. I imagine that this has been a turbulent experience for you, but the medics assure me that you haven't been adversely affected."

"They said it was just a flesh wound," Minato said.

"I meant your _mind_, boy. Being struck down like that at the very beginning of your career as a chunin might have destroyed someone else's nerves. Yet you seem unfazed."

Minato stared at the Hokage, searching his wrinkles for some sign. Was it bad that he wasn't particularly traumatised? Should he have been? Did only idiots walk away from things like this with a whistle?

The Sandaime smiled at him. "I see no reason to keep you confined to the village any longer. If you wish it, I shall send you to the border. I know many jonin who would be glad to have a chunin of your calibre under their command."

Minato's heart leapt. "I can join Sensei?" he asked hopefully.

"Jiraiya is engaging Hanzou's forces on the rain country border," the Hokage said. "For now they are holding out well... meanwhile the conflict with Kiri needs fresh blood. I'd prefer to send you there."

The war with Kiri was the oldest of all the conflicts raging around the world. It had started fifteen years ago and had claimed hundreds of lives on both sides. Minato understood the need for revitalising the fight out there once in a while, but he had really been hoping to work alongside his sensei again...

The Hokage sensed his disappointment at once. "Minato, a good ninja must learn to forge new bonds and work with new comrades. In order to grow, you must let go of your dependency on your mentor. Also, I've had complaints from the other jonin about how much Jiraiya keeps you to himself. This will be a wonderful opportunity for everyone."

"Yes, sir," Minato mumbled. What the Hokage hadn't elaborated was that mist country border was the furthest and most remote of all the warzones and it was a conflict with no sign of ending any time soon. There were people who had been sent there ten years ago who were _still_ there. If Minato went... how long would he be there?

"You'll be dispatched in a week with Team Mitarashi," the Hokage informed him. "I believe she was one of your examiners during the exam?"

Oh god, that was the strict one, wasn't it? Minato gulped.

But at least that was all the Hokage wanted to discuss with him, and he was quickly released back onto the street to figure out for himself how to prepare for his most crucial mission yet. His first thought was to tell his sensei, or Kushina, or even Ai, or Saburou, or Ai's mother – or even just the milkman. However, since none of these people were available, he went to tell his father instead.

"S'nice, son," slurred his father, who was mostly passed out on the couch when Minato found him. At least he wasn't accusing him of lying this time, but Minato didn't think his father had quite grasped that this meant he was leaving, possibly for a very long time.

Resigned to the fact that he probably wouldn't see his friends for a very long time, Minato decided to write some letters to them instead, explaining where he was going and that they shouldn't worry about him. His letter to Jiraiya turned out pretty long. To Ai and Saburou, it was more like a brief note of courtesy. To Kushina...

Well, he couldn't really think what to say to Kushina. Knowing full well of her opposition to him being called up, it was hard to frame his mission in a positive light. Besides, he felt strangely self-conscious. What if she thought his comments stupid? What if she thought the whole idea of writing a letter to her was stupid?

In the end, Minato didn't manage to come up with anything. Perhaps he would write once he was at the border where there would be all the time in the world to sit around and think of things to say to this girl? How irritating that it should be this hard to write a letter to this one particular person? No one else made him feel quite so much like a bumbling idiot as Kushina did, and she wasn't even in the village! How was that fair?

It turned out, however, that he needn't have given himself a headache over the matter, as the day before he was scheduled to leave, Kushina returned with her team.

* * *

When Minato heard Hatake Sakumo was back in the village and at the hospital, he dropped everything he was doing – all the scrolls and weapons he was packing into a large rucksack – and raced over. This was not because he had any particular desire to see Hatake Sakumo, but because he knew that if her sensei was back, then Kushina would surely be back too.

The man in question was standing in the immediate foyer, standing with a group of senior-looking medics, one of which was talking in that slow explanatory way that meant something serious was going on. Minato hesitated. He didn't want to interrupt anything important, and he still had some lingering wariness of Kushina's teacher left over from the academy days when the children had talked about which jonin teachers they wanted to be placed with, and most decided Hatake was far too fierce for their liking.

So with great trepidation, Minato approached. "Um, excuse me... Hatake-sensei?"

The speaking medic was the one who noticed him first, and only when he stopped talking did the white-haired man turn to look at him, as if looking for the source of the interruption instead of recognising he was being addressed. It probably took a lot of work to become that frosty. Minato didn't know what he'd done to offend Hatake Sakumo but there was no running away now. Under that horrible blank stare, he somehow managed to fire his inquiry. "Um. Kushina. I mean, do you know where she is?"

After a painfully long pause, like he wanted Minato to suffer, the jonin finally pointed. "Room forty-five," he said.

Minato took a sharp breath. "Did she get hurt?"

Hatake Sakumo shook his head slowly – no – and turned back to the medic, interruption resolved and over with. Minato quickly slithered away, quite glad that was over, and hurried on down the corridor that had been pointed out. It branched off in several places and crossed multiple wards, a route which Minato felt had warranted more than just a pointed finger from the jonin, but he steadily counted the door numbers until he managed to find number forty-five. It was open, probably to allow all the medics and nurses to stream in and out freely – and there were a lot of them – giving him a direct view into the room where Kushina was sitting.

For a brief moment he thought her sensei had lied. Kushina looked more shocked and pale than he'd ever seen her, and his first thought was that all these medical workers were attending to _her._ It took him several seconds to realise there was someone else lying on the bed in there, making awful whimpering sounds. Kushina was clasping this person's hand tightly. Minato only realised why she was staring at them in such obvious horror when the medics shifted aside a little and he got a glimpse of bright red, scorched flesh. It covered all of the boy's arm, most of his chest and a great deal of his face. A lot of his hair was gone. If it was someone Minato knew, he couldn't recognise him.

Whoever it was appeared to be in shock. Despite the massive burns to his face, he was still talking... or rather, rambling. Minato edged forward into the room and heard the frantic mutters he was speaking to Kushina. "I deserve it. I've done something to deserve this."

"No..." Kushina whispered back, though her lips barely moved.

"Too slow. I was too slow. Oh, god... tell her I'm sorry."

"Yes..." Kushina breathed.

The head medic in the room finally noticed Minato when he turned and almost bumped into him. "Please," he said with obvious impatience. "This is not the time for visitors. Both of you, out."

Minato realised that Kushina was only being evicted on his account, but she stood without argument and awkwardly extricated her hand from the burned boy's grip; he didn't appear to want to let go. Then she walked past Minato and out into the corridor. He followed her uncertainly but hung back. Once the door had slammed behind them, plunging them into the relative quietness of the corridor, Kushina didn't turn to face him. It looked like she was pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes.

"Who was that?" Minato asked quietly.

"Big J."

_Big J?_ Minato spun with disbelief to look at the door as if he might be able to see through it and catch another glimpse of the patient. But he knew what he'd seen, and nothing about that boy had looked like Big J, who was so named because he was a tall, very round-faced chunin... or at least he had been when he'd left to fight in the war a year ago. The boy in that bed had been as thin as a rake.

Most importantly... "I thought you didn't like Big J," he said. Last he'd heard, Kushina had even broken this guy's arm. As far as bullies went, he was the worst.

"I _hate_ him," Kushina said emphatically, brushing away something from her face that were probably tears.

"Then why-"

"He was crying for his mother," she said shortly. Minato thought there had to be more to it than that, but when Kushina said nothing else, he wondered if it really was all there needed to be. Perhaps Kushina was too kind-hearted to turn her back on even her most loathsome of bullies when he needed help.

"I'm sure he'll be ok," Minato said, since Kushina seemed unusually upset over this. "What happened?"

She sniffed loudly and finally turned to face him. Puffy pink speckles surrounded her suspiciously damp eyes, but the effect wasn't particularly unflattering in Minato's opinion. "We were on a mission to deliver personal messages to the border... you know, the unimportant stuff, just like letters from peoples ma's and scarves from grannies, that kind of thing? There was an attack while we were there. There was some kind of explosion. You could see the flames above the trees, and it was like half a mile away, but you could still hear the screams. Big J was brought back to the camp like that... the other three died right there when we were strapping them to the stretchers. The only one we managed to bring back alive was J."

"Oh." Minato watched her take a deep, shaky breath to calm herself.

"They don't have any medics out there, you know," she went on angrily. "There were a couple, but they got killed off and now all they have are some chunin with basic first-aid trying to deal with everything. They won't send any replacements because they're too important to waste on a low priority zone like that. Apparently there aren't enough casualties to justify sending precious medics. I was only there for half an hour and in that time three chunin died and Big J's going to lose his arm and his eye. That's supposed to be one of the safest posts? What the hell's going on, Minato?"

She gave a growl of frustration, though maybe it was more at herself, for she furiously rubbed her eyes and gave a great sigh. "I'm alright, I just can't stand it when boys cry. It gets me right here," she said impatiently, pointing to her chest. "These wars are just so stupid. Why can't everyone just... stay home and stop picking fights with each other?"

This put Minato in a very awkward situation. He had sought her to tell her he was finally fit enough to be dispatched in the hopes that she would share his excitement... but that didn't seem so appropriate anymore. Not when she'd just witnessed so much death and disfigurement of others who'd been sent out.

"So what did you want?" she asked bluntly, probably because he didn't usually seek her out unless he had something to say. He was now left struggling for a new reason.

But he'd have to tell her at some point. He couldn't just disappear tomorrow without ever having said goodbye.

"Um," he began slowly. "I'm leaving."

She blinked at him slowly. "Where?" He could tell she already knew, for a stillness had come over her that froze the air between them.

"The Kiri border. Things aren't, um, going so well down there so they want to send fresh blood-"

"That's probably what they'll get too," she retorted. "Fresh blood? Who came up with a stupid saying like that?"

She'd have to take it up with the Hokage. "I know you're worried," he said quickly, "but I'll be fine."

"Didn't you see Big J?" She pointed at said boy's room. "Did he look fine to you?"

"I think I'll manage better than that," he said with a shrug. Although accidents happened to the best of ninja, Big J was by no means anywhere near to being 'the best'.

"So what?" she demanded. "You think your life is the only thing someone can lose out there?"

His eyes darted over her face, confused. _What else was there?_ If he lost any of his equipment, he could always send off for some more or borrow someone else's, or plunder an enemy's supplies. Any other materials were superfluous.

"You don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you?" she said. "You think it's all fun and games. And then you become like Big J, who lost it even before the attack."

"Lost what?" Minato asked.

Kushina gestured emphatically. "_It._"

"Ah, ok." He was still wasn't sure what she meant.

"War _changes_ people, Minato!" she exclaimed. "It ruins them!"

"Well, what are you shouting at me for?" he said, feeling intensely gotten-at for something that wasn't even his fault. "I have a duty and I can't refuse it. I don't want to refuse. And why should it change me for the worse?"

"Because you're already so damn perfect, any change would be for the worse!" She said it sarcastically, but she still grew hot in the face. Compliments apparently didn't come easy to her, even the ones she didn't mean.

"I can't help what I've been ordered to do," he went on. "What would you prefer I do? Betray the village that trained me when they need me the most?"

"Maybe you should," she answered petulantly.

He stared at her. "I can't believe you'd say that. Loyalty to your village is.... it's everything."

"Konoha isn't my village," she said fiercely.

"How can you still believe that after all this-?"

"Whirlpool never got involved in these wars! We bothered no one-"

"Because you were too busy fighting yourselves," he pointed out. "You had people who gave up on loyalty and they destroyed everything. You can't hold your village up as the example when it tore itself apart."

"Fine!" she snarled. "Go get yourself blown up for all I care! I won't miss you!"

She shoved past him, stomping away down the corridor. Minato watched her incredulously. "Then why did you take the exam if you hate war so much?" he called. "You knew they'd have sent you out with me if you'd passed!"

"Then at least we would have been together!" she shouted over her shoulder. "But forget it! I was stupid to think you might need me... not as stupid as you though!"

And then she was gone. Minato hung around a little longer to wait for any news on Big J's prognosis, but eventually he had to return home to finish packing and organising all the belongings he would have to leave behind.

Comparatively speaking, he knew he didn't have much compared to other kids, but there still seemed so much to leave behind. On the frontier there was only room enough for a few spare socks, a couple of pairs of extra underwear, and a small flint block for sharpening kunai. Mr. Nose would have to remain behind as sentry over his bed. There would be no place for his favourite yellow shirt where he was going, nor the paintings he'd taped to the wall as testament to his non-existent artistic skills. Jiraiya had always tried to tutor him in the way of the paintbrush as much as the sword, but even Minato's genius had limitations.

In the waning light of the evening, he sat down on his bed and listened to his room. He would miss it. All his life it had been a kind of sanctuary where not even his father ventured. He was _already_ missing it.

He would miss his friends too. There would be more where he was going – there were always friends wherever Minato went whether he'd met them yet or not – but most of all he would miss his sensei. Few people were irreplaceable in his life, and his sensei's absence would be an aching hole in his chest for quite some time. So perhaps the Hokage was right? He couldn't cling to Jiraiya forever. At some point he had to grow up.

And then he would miss Kushina.

She couldn't claim to be so worried about him that she'd entered the chunin exam for the sole purpose of keeping him company, and then turn around and say she wouldn't miss him. That didn't square. But trust her to be the one thing that made him feel bad about leaving. This morning he'd been excited and happy, looking forward to a change of scenery and the next step forward as a shinobi... now he sat here on his bed, feeling a little sick in the stomach to think of Kushina's angry words. Was that how it was going to end? What a stupid thing to fall out over...

Before the light faded completely, Minato resolved himself to finding Kushina. He couldn't leave the village for god-only-knew-how-long on such a sour note. Even though it wasn't wise to search her out so soon after an argument, there just wasn't enough time to wait for her to cool off. And even if he was the one who had to suck it up and apologise despite having done nothing wrong, it would be worth it as long as they were able to part ways on pleasant terms.

But although he searched quite thoroughly that night, Minato was unable to find her. He checked at the social centre where she lived, but the bespeckled young lady who answered the door claimed not to have seen Kushina all day. He searched by the river, in the junkyard, around the upper tier of the markets, in the genin training grounds – anywhere he knew Kushina liked to hang out. He even collected his courage and knocked on the door of the Hatake household and braved yet another stony expression from the White Fang as he gibbered out a sentence that sort of sounded like, "Do you know where Kushina is?"

Hatake Sakumo naturally said no, and Minato was forced to continue his search elsewhere. But little did he know that once the jonin had shut the door in his face and returned to the living room, he had then asked the red-haired girl sitting on the hearth rug with his wife, "What did he do exactly?"

To which the red-haired girl replied, while jangling her homemade necklace for their tiny baby's amusement, "Nothing. He's going away to fight and we fell out. I don't know what to say to him..."

Minato had to end his fruitless search after a few hours. He needed his sleep for the long journey ahead of him the next day, and he had to accept that if Kushina didn't want to be found then there was little chance of her being found. She was a ninja, after all.

Not for the first time he went to bed with a restless mind, courtesy of a girl from Whirlpool. And for this reason, and perhaps the prospect of tomorrow, he slept uneasily and woke the next morning feeling sluggish and lazy. He stayed in bed for as long as he could, before dragging himself through the motions of morning routine. His bag was already packed, and he still had ten whole minutes to get to the village gate before-

Wait! His father!

It occurred right then that no one had explained to his father that he would be leaving to fight on the border, or at least not when he was sober enough to understand. The man was still in bed, so perhaps he should give his shoulder a little shake to wake him and-

No. Either his father wouldn't care or he would get angry for being disturbed, and Minato didn't have time for this. He grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down a message to leave by the breakfast cereal. He kept it brief, saying that he was going on a long mission and he wasn't sure when he would be back – something that was fundamentally true, but still felt like a horrible deceit for explaining so little. He would write, he decided, a much longer letter once he got where he was going; then he would be too far away from his father to risk having any more bottles thrown at his head.

Even such a brief note took a while to write. Minato glanced at his watch and hissed a mild exclamation; he needed to hurry or he was going to be late.

He hastily signed the note and dashed from the house with his backpack. Would the group leave without him if he was late? Had he remembered to pack everything? Would he be halfway across the country before he remembered he'd left behind something vital?

Fortunately, Minato had always been extremely fast, and he made it to the gate with several minutes to spare. The leaving party was already there, waiting for him.

"Ah, here comes our star player at last," said his former examiner, Mitarashi Junko, who was most likely their leader for this journey. "Do you have everything?"

"Yes, sir!" he piped obediently.

"Alright then," she said. "I'll give you a minute to say your goodbyes and then we move out."

"Goodbyes?" he repeated.

The jonin nodded to something behind him. "She's been waiting for you, I think."

Minato jerked around in surprise. Kushina was standing by a grassy verge, looking distinctly displeased and awkward. She was keeping her distance; she had never liked big crowds of people and hated to approach him around others. Yet here she was, braving her dislike of human beings to see him off.

Or, perhaps, shout at him some more, judging by her expression.

Minato went over to her a little warily, glad at least that she had come out of hiding, even if it was at the last possible minute. He opened his mouth, ready to apologise for any cruel things he'd said about her village, but Kushina beat him to it.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "For before. I didn't mean to say those things yesterday. I was just upset because of Big J, you know?"

"I know," he said slowly, trying to recover from his shock. Was this the first time Kushina had ever apologised for anything, ever?

"Also, I really don't want you to go," she said, fisting her hands in her pockets and glaring off to the side. "That upset me too."

"I have to-"

"_I know_. I know you have to," she snapped. "I'm just telling you I don't like it. I don't want you to go. I don't want you to get hurt again or change or anything."

"I won't get hurt," he promised. "And I won't change."

"You might," she said stubbornly.

"What about you?" he asked. "What am I supposed to do if you get hurt or you change while I'm gone?"

She looked shocked. "That'll never happen," she said. "I'll be the same forever. And you'll get bored of me after you go out there and have exciting adventures and meet more exciting girls."

"Girls? Why girls?"

"Ok. _Boys _then," she gasped in exasperation. "Does it matter? You're leaving me behind either way..."

He understood how she felt. He felt like he was leaving a lot of things behind this week... and Kushina was one of them. "I'll write to you," he said. "Every week."

Kushina considered this offer with narrowed eyes, as if scrutinising it for loopholes. "Ok," she said slowly. "You got to tell me if you get hurt or you meet any girls."

Again with the girls? "Sure," he said.

She considered him a moment longer, then withdrew something from her pocket and jabbed it towards him quite aggressively. "Here," she said. "Take this with you."

Gingerly, he reached out and accepted it. A small wooden disk fell into his palm, attached to a leather thong. Upon closer inspection, there was a spiral relief on one side of the disk made of what seemed to be a kind of glue that was as hard as plastic. As a necklace it was quite amateurish, and it bore too much of a resemblance to the symbol of the Whirlpool village to be a coincidence. Minato looked at Kushina. "Did you make this?" he asked.

She shrugged and nodded. "On the arts and craft day at the centre," she said.

"It's good," he said, meaning it. Even if the materials were crude, the spiral of glue was almost perfect. "It's really good, Kushina, thank you."

"It's a good luck charm to keep you alive," she said. "You don't have to wear it or anything... I know it's stupid. Just keep it in your bag or whatever."

"No, I'll wear it," he said, and to prove it he immediately tired the thong around his neck so that the emblem lay proudly against his shirt. Kushina smiled a little, and a warm flush of pink crept over her cheeks. And as Minato ran his fingers over it in marvel, she refrained from mentioning her present had spent the best part of last night in a baby's mouth.

"Thanks, Kushina," he said again. "It means a lot."

Behind him, his leader called out. "Namikaze," she shouted. "We're going!"

"Uh, I guess this is it," he said, grinning awkwardly at Kushina.

"Yeah..." she said weakly. "Take care, ok?"

"I will."

"And... you'll still be my friend when you come back, won't you?"

Minato felt something painful squeeze in his chest. Kushina had never acknowledged him as a friend before, and he suddenly knew what his leaving was doing to her. He was her friend, and he was her _only_ friend, and in a moment he would be gone. Kushina didn't have much else.

He reached out and took her hand, like they were sealing a deal. "I promise I won't change, Kushina. I'll always be your best friend."

She hesitated a moment before her fingers squeezed back. "Me too... I promise I'll wait for you."

They smiled at each other.

"Either kiss her or get moving!" Junko shouted.

Minato and Kushina jerked apart like they'd both suddenly realised the other had a contagious disease. Snorts of laughter rang out from the leaving party, and Minato ducked away with burning ears to join them. They clapped him on the back good-naturedly and said things like, "Don't worry, the courage for girls will come in time."

As they left through the gate, he turned and waved to the red-headed girl he was leaving behind and she waved back just as exuberantly until they passed over the crest of the hill and she was out of sight.

He didn't see her again for another three years.

* * *

TBC


	7. Children of War

**The Girl from Whirlpool**

Chapter Seven: Children of War

* * *

_Dear Hokage-sama,_

_You asked that I keep you abreast of a certain young man's situation out here on the Fire-Water borderlands, but I imagine that by the time this letter reaches you, you may already have heard more than I can tell you in coded correspondence. This one has a reputation that tends to precede him._

_Let us just say that he is a bright boy, as expected from a child of that woman. He is quick to comprehend strategy and faultlessly obedient. He gets on well with others, even the most difficult of us, and from what I have observed he is kind, generous, and hygienic, which is all I can ask of my people here. _

_It is difficult to complain about him, but since you'll desire to know even the smallest defect, I would have to say that sometimes he is slow to speak his mind and offer insight. When he does find the courage to speak, he always has something fairly wise and balanced to say, so I don't fear he holds back out of simple-mindedness but out of natural diffidence. He has been more forthcoming in recent weeks, however, as he grows more familiar with his comrades and superiors. _

_Currently, he is best at following orders and all a commander could ask for. I reserve my judgement about his leadership qualities. It is plain to see people gravitate towards him, some twice his age or more, and admire him greatly for his skill. He could easily have a lot of sway if he chooses to utilise it, but until he learns more confidence, I would say he is quite unprepared for what you have in mind for him._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Shimura Danzou_

* * *

The marshes were always quiet at night, but they were never truly silent. If it wasn't the distant snores and shuffling of the sleeping camp behind them, it was the marsh itself that rustled with little noises and the unseen splashes of nocturnal animals hidden away in the mist.

Being put 'on watch' was a very misleading assignment. The mist was so thick out here that even on a clear night with the full moon beaming down on land, it was impossible to see more than a hundred yards. Vision was a near useless sense on the Kiri marshland. Here, you had to depend almost entirely on your hearing alone, and trust your intuition to know the difference between one ripple of water and the next, for one could be nothing more than an eel gliding close to the surface, and another could be the enemy closing in to end your life.

Naturally, Minato had other more reliable ways of detecting enemy incursions, and so tonight he was relaxed in the bough of a hazel tree, examining his toes.

A rumour had been going around the camp for as long as he'd been here that these marshes had unnatural properties. Most of the Kiri ninja they captured – dead or alive – were such strange-looking fellows. They sharpened their teeth to frightening points, and some were so white and slimy looking they were practically amphibian. Several even had quite real webbing between their fingers and toes.

No one knew how they'd done this to themselves – _if they had – _so it was a matter of bodily integrity not to wash in the marsh water, for it was widely believed that if you dipped your feet too long in these cold, foggy pools, you'd soon turn into a frog. Minato made sure to examine his toes ever night. So far so good: no webbing.

On the branch above him came a great sigh. Nara Shikaku was always easily bored by watch duty, and he'd only been here a month. But tonight's sigh did not seem like one of dismay... but of wistful longing.

"Do you think she has a boyfriend back home?" Shikaku suddenly asked.

Minato was faintly startled by the intrusion of conversation into a task that was always to be conducted in strict silence. He cast around quickly for any sign of life nearby, then ventured a hushed response. "Who?"

"Yoshino."

Minato flicked a moth off his hand. "You mean the one in the communications unit?"

"Is there any other?"

"Well, there's Yoshino in the third strike unit, and there was a Yoshino who was sent home a few weeks ago because she lost her hand, so-"

"Nevermind, nevermind. Yes, the one in the communications unit. The pretty one."

Minato said nothing. He had never thought Yoshino was particularly attractive, just kinda tall and thin and supremely bossy. There were few times he'd ever seen her when she wasn't shouting down the communication lines to some poor sap at another outpost. But maybe Shikaku liked that sort of girl?

"She knows twelve different Water country dialects, you know. She's a smart girl."

That was probably exaggerating a little, but just knowing one Mist dialect was more than what Minato and Shikaku knew put together, so it was still pretty impressive. "Doesn't she remind you of a drill sergeant, though?" Minato asked him.

"She's not afraid to tell people what they should be doing, it's true," Shikaku sighed.

Minato went back to his toes with an air of finality. "You should definitely marry her then."

"What?" The tree shivered as Shikaku bolted upright to peer down at him.

"Only someone like a drill sergeant could motivate you to do anything. If you marry someone like you, you'll never get anything done. If you marry Yoshino you'll be whipped into shape in no-"

"Jeez, I'm not talking about marriage, Minato," Shikaku gasped. "She doesn't even know I exist."

"Suit yourself," Minato said tiredly. So many of the conversations he had with his friends these days boiled down to girls and Shikaku was the worst. From one day to the next, he would go from loudly declaring that dating was a pointless exercise in futility for losers who would accomplish no more than collecting a list of bitter ex's, to waxing lyrical about the newest female recruit's backside. If he didn't want to date and he obviously didn't want to be asexual, perhaps marriage was what he was after?

But Minato didn't really want to encourage this line of conversation. It was bad enough that he had to be kept awake at night whenever Utatane Kaede snuck into her boyfriend's bunk and did things non-too-quietly that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He didn't really want to assist in pairing anyone else up too.

Above him, Shikaku sighed again. "Do you think she likes poems? I'm pretty good with things like that..."

Minato was almost grateful when he felt something hit the periphery of his senses. One of his figurative tripwires had been tripped.

Quickly and quietly, he slipped off the branch and landed on the soft, boggy moss. "Shikaku," he whispered, "there's a scout crossing the delta. Go wake the commander and I'll see if I can head him off."

"Can't you wake the commander?" Shikaku asked hopefully.

Between facing an unknown enemy hidden in the mist and waking their crotchety boss, Minato thought he had had the better deal. "Just go."

He set off into the mist, silently moving across the flooded landscape, between rushes and sedges and twisted hazel boughs. The same figure unwittingly passed through another trap to the east; they were heading along a straight route towards the camp, and Minato changed direction to intercept. There was no chance his quarry could know he was being tracked. No had not yet managed to detect Minato's jutsu.

After a few minutes, Minato paused behind a clump of tall grass and listened. If the scout had continued along the same trajectory, he would soon be passing through a third trap about three hundred metres away. Minato waited, peering hard into the impenetrable mist.

_There._ A tiny flicker of a bare foot passing over water cress, and then nothing. The scout had almost escaped the range of his tag, and Minato frowned. If he could just widen its range a few more metres, he could-

Ok, this wasn't the time to work on his jutsu. The scout was coming. He could hear him now, a soft panting of someone who had probably swam the distance between the First Island to the mainland river delta. This would be pretty easy, he thought. The tired ones were always the quickest to take out and this one was alone.

Then the panting stopped and silence fell once more.

Minato stayed still. Had he been detected?

Minutes passed. He ventured out from the grasses and across the surface of the pool. Mist closed in around him like a white sheet obscuring everything beyond the end of his nose. These were not conditions to his advantage. He performed a swift wind jutsu to blow the thick fog away, and suddenly the marsh around him came into crystal-clear focus.

Yet there was no scout to be seen. But Minato had _definitely_ heard him.

Suddenly two cold blue hands reached out of the water and dragged him under.

* * *

The war had not been going well when Minato had arrived at the delta. The people he was joining were unanimously weary and depressed. Of the ten original outposts along the coast, three had been obliterated and two had merged to compensate for lost numbers. Kiri forces had staked a post at the edge of the delta that was a geographical nightmare to attack. The campaign had been going on for fifteen years and this was the first time that Minato had comprehended that Konoha _was losing._

The news back home had been that the fire country was holding the line admirably. In reality, Minato could see these men and women were perhaps just another year or two away from total defeat. The war with the rain country had sapped vital reserves and morale, almost certainly accelerating the slow erosion of the territory lines on this side of the country.

The commander of the eastern front was one Shimura Danzou. A one-eyed man about the same age as the Hokage who rarely left his tent. He was originally head of an ultra-secretive ANBU division back home in Konoha, but for some reason the Hokage had seen fit to send him to the furthest border. In his first week, Minato had been updated about all the gossip by his friendly bunk-mate Shiranui Taisen, and he learned that the commander might have been sent out here not to aid the war with his expertise, but because the Hokage feared his influence at home.

Nevertheless, Danzou seemed a competent commander. As soon as Minato arrived he was put to work guarding the food stores. Initially he'd thought this was a job for a guard dog, not a chunin, but by the end of his first week he'd been attacked twice by Kiri saboteurs. He'd held his ground so well – defeating both attempts without even needing to call for aid – that Danzou had quickly set him the task of sabotaging the food supplies of _Kiri's_ outpost. Minato had been instructed at great length what he was to do, and though he would be going with several seasoned chunin, he knew this was a difficult task that would be quite a blow to the enemy for all its simplicity.

Unfortunately, no one had succeeded yet.

Minato's team was the first.

The plan had been this: while the rest of the team created a diversion, Minato was to sneak into the outpost, spoil their water supplies and compromise their preserves.

His team performed their part with dedication, and two of them died in the process. Minato snuck into the food bunker under the guise of the strongest genjutsu he possessed and proceeded to discreetly prick open every packet of food and pop every can of rations, before proceeding to dump the poison Danzou had given him into the water tank.

It would only be a matter of days before the Kiri nin discovered the water contamination and fixed it, but the contamination of the food would be weeks in the making and far more difficult to replace. The best Konoha could hope for were widespread stomach cramps, but Danzou and everyone else seemed assured that this was worth the effort. An army marched on its stomach, they said. The ugly truth was that more wars had been lost thanks to diarrhoea than to superior fighting forces.

Whether this had attributed to their success in overwhelming the Kiri outpost a few weeks later would never be known, but it was a hard-won victory and Shiranui Taisen had been killed in a hail of kunai. Their reward, however, was the re-establishment of the original border and juicy intelligence plundered from the Kiri commander's tent.

Minato had thought this was it, and their job was merely to defend the border. But Danzou was not content to win back one scrap of land. He wanted to win islands that had been part of the water country for centuries. In fact it was clear he wanted to defeat Kiri in its entirety and bring their whole country under the rule of the fire country.

No one was in any position to argue. And so within months of arriving at the border and growing accustomed to one way of war, he was suddenly thrown into a whole new kind of game. Defence was very different from offence. The feeling he'd had when he'd been holding his ground against those who would poison his food and when he'd helped retake the Kiri outpost was a very different feeling when he was sent out with a squadron of thirty chunin and instructed to kill every Kiri nin on the First Island and claim it at last for the fire country.

This was for peace, he told himself. The Kiri nin were barbarians who made their children fight to the death in pits filled with blood and bones. Wherever they went, they brought destruction. Every inch Konoha took from them, was an inch that was better off.

He killed twenty-two people that night, and let five escape, but after all that they failed to take the island. He wasn't sure how he felt when he returned to camp to wash the blood from his clothes. Glad that the order to retreat had arrived when it had, certainly. Yet still... he was disappointed at their failure. The lives he took never meant much to him. He did not enjoy it, but he didn't abhor it either. When an opponent came at him with a steely determination to kill him, he felt nothing but satisfaction of a good job done when he ended their life. There was nothing more to it than that.

He did not, however, like it when the children came.

The first time he'd come across one he had hesitated. He had known that the barbaric Kiri put their children through bloody trials, but he had not realised they were tools of war. Not until a particularly heavy invasion force came charging across the delta and Minato had engaged in his first full-out battle where loss didn't just mean a temporary retreat, but a loss of their outpost. He had cut his way across that battle-field, side by side with his teammates, with just one objective – kill any enemy he could. Then he'd turned around and a boy no more than nine or ten had come at him with teeth as sharp as the kunai in his hands.

He couldn't kill him. Minato _could not kill him._

In those precious moments, he had choked, and the boy had driven a kunai into his arm.

Danzou had been angry. Minato was marched into his tent the next day with his arm in a sling and had listened rigidly to his commander's disparaging lecture. Kiri used child soldiers for the sole purpose of making soft-hearted idiots like him hesitate, but there was no difference between a boy and a man. The boy would only grow up to be a stronger man. It was better to kill them while they were young, for they all grew up the same.

So the next time he had come across a child in the middle of the battle-field, he had not hesitated. He had cracked her across the back of the skull with the flat of his hand and left her for someone else. Whether she would be killed by one of his comrades later or retrieved by hers was not his concern.

He did not consider it a weakness to refrain from killing children, regardless of what Danzou said.

Still, his first injury had put him in a difficult position. Since his first week he had written diligently to his friends back home. He wrote most enthusiastically to his sensei, about his commander, about the people he'd met and how the war on this side of the country was going, and his sensei frequently wrote back. Jiraiya's letters were always a delight. He had a way with words that could make even the most mundane things sound amusing and interesting, which was just as well since they were forbidden from talking in too much detail about what they were doing. Minato was regularly asked to read out his sensei's letter to his bunk-mates, because they were closer to being short stories than simple updates, and everyone was keen to hear about the leader of the rain country, Hanzou, who was apparently a bit of a newt-fancier and rode everywhere on a giant salamander. Minato stored each one carefully under his bedroll to reread whenever he felt low and lonely.

He had kept his promise to write to Kushina every week, but herein lay his problem. He had also promised to inform her if he was ever injured, and even if doing so would probably only make her anxious or angry, he didn't want to lie. He scratched his head for several days, trying to find the right words.

_Got stabbed in the arm by a tiny kid,_ he eventually wrote. _Nearly wet myself at the time._ _Hurts to write. _

To which she wrote back.

_Idiot._

Which made Minato smile as he stored it with his sensei's letters.

Although he wrote every week to her as promised, Kushina's responses were a little more sporadic. He understood that she was away from the village a lot doing missions and wouldn't receive his letters until she returned, but even so, when she _did_ write, her letters were much more succinct and shorter than his own. She told him about her missions and made sure to tell him any and every embarrassment to befall her teammate Kagura. She mentioned her sensei's new son several times. Although he'd heard Kushina express disgust with babies before, she seemed quite taken with this one, and although the updates about herself were jerky and self-conscious, she wrote quite fluently about baby Kakashi's gorgeous eyes and perfect nose and pudgy fingers. She mentioned he strongly resembled her sensei. Minato immediately felt sorry for the kid.

However, after his first year on the frontlines, he was beginning to run out of things to say. The days tended to run together when little changed from day to day. Some days there were attacks. Other days they were the ones who attacked. Every other day was perfectly boring, and the most challenging task in his life was to keep himself entertained. So he had begun to work on a new jutsu, which involved using tags modelled on exploding tags that, instead of exploding, could be used to relay information. He had discovered that if he placed one of these tags inside his tent, wherever he went, he could always roughly tell if anyone entered. Gradually, he could begin to tell how many people were in the tent. Eventually, he could tell _who_ was in his tent and what they were doing. He took his jutsu to Danzou and tried to explain it as best he could, but eventually his commander had just waved him off, saying that if he was confident he should utilise it however he wished. He was not like Jiraiya who was always interested in Minato's ideas and happy to help him develop them, or even to learn a few things from his own student.

Minato placed tags all over the delta and found them especially successful as a kind of early warning system to detect invasions or catch the odd scout. But this was literally all he had to write home about, and pretty quickly it was an exhausted topic. He stopped writing every week and stuck to writing letters at the end of every month. He doubted Kushina minded. She hadn't responded herself in weeks.

He did not understand why until one of his bunk-mates had arrived in their tent, calling names and lobbing letters at anyone who responded. Minato was hit square in the eye by a surprisingly thick envelope, and he felt a surge of inexplicable happiness when he recognised Kushina's awful handwriting (he was convinced she still wrote with the wrong hand just to spite everybody). By then his letters to and from Kushina were the stuff of an ongoing joke in this tent. Though he had reminded them all quite emphatically that Kushina was not his girlfriend, they still teased him mercilessly whenever he received a letter or was caught writing one to her. They often attempted to steal his messages and pretended to read them out in front of the others, and they always seemed to fall along the lines of "Oh, Kushina, how the thought of your pretty face makes me moan in longing," when in fact his real letters were much more boring. Nothing Minato could say would convince them she was just a friend.

"What's that? Another _lurve_ letter from your sweetheart?" one bunk-mate asked.

"Quite a long one this time by the looks of it. Maybe it's a _Dear John_?"

"Shut up, guys," Minato sighed with a exasperated smile, tearing open the envelope to pull out the contents. He read the first line and the smile slid from his face.

"Oh, god, she _is _breaking up with him," the first bunk-mate gasped.

Minato only wished that was the worst news he could have received.

_Sakumo-sensei's wife died,_ Kushina wrote. _She died in April,_ _but Suna only just released the body to us, so the funeral was this week. It's been horrible. Kakashi keeps calling for his mother and looking around, but now I think he's beginning to forget her. It doesn't seem fair. Perhaps it's better that he's too young to understand? I feel horrible though. He's never going to be able to know his mother now, and you'd think someone as kind as Rumiko-san deserves to be remembered by their own child. _

_And I'm worried about Sensei. I've never seen him like this before and it scares me. Everyone just assumed he's managing ok, but I don't think he is. I don't think he's eating. I think the first time he left the house since we got the news was to go to the funeral, and he didn't look right. I don't know what to do, Minato. I don't know who to tell. Everyone just says he's stopped taking missions because he has to look after Kakashi, but if it wasn't for that baby, I think he'd give up entirely. Kagura doesn't think there's anything wrong. She thinks Sensei's indestructible, but she's an idiot. She won't do anything for him and she has to, because I won't be in the village for much longer. _

_I passed the chunin exam a few weeks ago, but now I wish I hadn't taken it. They're going to send me to Waterfall when I need to be here for Sensei. And what's worse, Waterfall is where most of the Whirlpool refugees went. It's where the Reformist cowards ran to after they destroyed everything. What if I end up fighting my old neighbours? I could end up fighting the people who killed my mother._

_I know there's nothing you can do, half a million miles away. I'm not sure you even knew Rumiko-san, so this probably means nothing to you and so I'm sorry for unloading._

_I guess what I'm also trying to say is that if you want to reach me, my new address will be the Waterfall border._

Minato set the letter down on his lap and stared at the canvas walls of his tent as he thought. His bunkmates were still messing around, pretending to act out a love scene from a famous old romantic play, except the names had been changed to 'Minato' and 'Kushina'. Normally he might have been amused, but tonight he wanted to be alone. He left the tent and wandered the camp, struggling to compose a reply in his head. What did he say to her? Everything he could say in this situation just sounded trite and clichéd, and he wasn't sure Kushina would like that.

In the end he wrote that he was sorry for her loss, reassured her that her Sensei would get back on his feet in time, and wished her well at her new post. It sounded so formal and empty, like it was something anyone else could have said. Would she mind? Had she been hoping for something more than generic tokens of condolences that she'd probably been hearing for weeks.

He penned a little note to his own Sensei too, asking if there was anything that could be done to help Hatake Sakumo. Jiraiya's response was slow, but when it eventually came a few weeks later, Minato was glad to hear the Jiraiya had been in contact with Konoha and knew that Sakumo was back on active duty and nearly back to his old self. Kushina, however, had yet to respond. He wrote again to her to relay Jiraiya's message in case she hadn't heard, but again she failed to reply. Minato knew it was harder to send personal messages from one warzone to another, but perhaps Kushina just had nothing to say to him now.

In truth, it was the beginning of the end of their correspondence. Minato wrote her a few more times, mentioning how his new jutsu was improving and his hopes that it had the potential to summon objects or people or himself instantaneously across any distance. Kushina's responses were few and far between. She mentioned the weather, the beautiful sights, and the boredom. She mentioned that she was becoming friends with her new unit's captain, who she mentioned was one of the Hokage's nephews. And then he heard no more from her.

* * *

Minato squelched back to camp with chattering teeth. Icy water dripped from his clothes and his hair and the tip of his nose, and his progress was hampered by the small corpse sluicing through the mud and the puddles behind him. Shikaku was the first to see him and came running forward.

"There you are! Did you get him?" his friend asked, already peering down at the body Minato was dragging by the foot. "He's intact right? You didn't give him time to destroy his secrets, did you?"

"Yes," Minato said heavily, dropping his cargo on the bank of the camp where several other nin had gathered. As Minato pushed scraped strings of algae from his hair, Shikaku leant down with everyone else to check out the dead scout.

"Shit, Minato," he whispered. "It's just a kid."

"I noticed that," Minato said, sparing a small glance at the body of a boy who couldn't have been much older than eight or nine.

"Are you alright?" Shikaku asked.

"Fine. He just got the jump on me... pulled me under the water," Minato flicked water off his fingers. "Now I'll probably turn into a newt or something."

"No," said Shikaku, "I mean-"

"The commander's coming," someone said softly, and all murmurs of conversation ceased as they looked up to see Danzou exiting his tent. He came towards them, flanked by two of his captains, and stopped to silently assess the body on the ground.

"Who handled this one?" he asked quietly.

Everyone looked at Minato, who squelched as he shifted his weight. "I did."

Danzou appraised him with one dull eye before slowly shifting his attention to his captains. "Take this one to be autopsied," he said to them. Then he jerked his scarred chin at Minato, a clear command that he was to follow him back to his tent. Minato would rather have been allowed to shower first, but one did not keep the commander waiting.

Inside the tent it was strikingly more comfortable than any other quarters. The walls were hung with insulating sheets of fabric painted with watercolours, and instead of the regular tarp floor of other tents that did little to soften the lumps and stones underneath, this floor was covered in quality mats that were firm and dry underfoot. Minato dripped on them shamelessly as he discreetly looked around at Danzou's opulent quarters, with his feather-stuffed cushions and chairs and antique cabinets and tables. Instead of dampness, he smelled sweet tea. Minato had almost forgotten such luxury existed, and suddenly he found himself aching for his room back home.

"You have done well today," Danzou said to him as he moved an armful of scrolls of a sitting chair in order to recline in it. "You have overcome your hesitation and understand now what must be done?"

Minato stared at him, his face blank.

"To have an undamaged body in our possession will be very useful," his commander went on. "You have your village's thanks for helping to further our understanding of the enemy."

Minato wasn't sure a child's body could hold enough secrets to help the war effort, but he supposed every little helped. He nodded his acceptance of the gratitude and waited for Danzou to dismiss him, but the commander seemed more interested in staring at him a little longer.

"Are you aware that the Hokage plans to retire soon?" Danzou asked.

Minato shook his head. He genuinely had not known that.

"You are currently one of the favoured candidates to replace him. How do you feel about that?"

Minato lifted his shoulder in the slightest of shrugs. How did Danzou _want_ him to feel about that?

"I admit I had my reservations at first, but I think I am beginning to see the potential in you. Great leaders do not let themselves be compromised by hesitation or misplaced mercy; they must be the embodiment of a perfect shinobi, and every great shinobi understands that he is a tool to be used by the will of the Hokage, that his emotions and personal desires come second to the Hokage's. Do you understand, Namikaze?"

"Yes," Minato said.

"No chunin will ever make a difference in this war," Danzou continued. "Nor will any jonin. Not even a commander like me amounts to anything more than the arm that wields the tools. All paths of power lead back to the Hokage. Only he can change the course of history. Only he can make a difference and save lives. Isn't that something to aspire to? I see the makings of a great man in you, Namikaze... I believe you could one day lead this petty, squabbling world of ours to peace. I tell you this not because I wish to flatter you, but because to first take your place in the world, you must understand it. If you are to be our next Hokage, and the most powerful, influential man in the world, I expect you to prove yourself soon enough."

"Yes, commander," Minato answered bleakly, for he knew at once that he was a fraud.

Danzou would have him feel proud for killing a child as dispassionately as any other, but he didn't know that Minato had acted not out of the cool logic required of a perfect tool, but the knee-jerk frenzy of one who feared for his life. He'd been dragged under the water and he'd been drowning. He'd grown complacent with his own power, assuming this opponent – like every other – would be no match for him.

How could a child so much younger be so much stronger?

Minato had lashed out in desperation and gotten lucky. When his breath had returned and he'd seen the small body floating in the water beside him, he'd been struck with a shock that had accompanied him all the way back to camp. Now here his commander was, extolling his virtues. Reminding him that Hokage's didn't take lives; they saved them.

How could he ever live up to that?

Once Danzou dismissed him, Minato went straight to the showers and washed all the remaining slime and water beetles from his hair. Then he went straight to bed, passing Yoshi along the way – a girl from the third strike unit not to be confused with Yoshino from the communications unit – who stumbled when she saw him and nearly dropped the freshly oiled batch of kunai she was carrying. "H-Hi, Minato," she stammered.

"Oh. Hi." Minato forgot her the moment she was out of sight, and threw himself onto his hard bedroll once inside his tent. Most of his bunkmates were already in there, asleep, and so there was nothing to trouble Minato except a few snores that he'd long since learned to live with. Something dug into his collar bone, and Minato reached up to wrench off the good luck charm from around his neck to drop it into his bag. Luck may have saved him tonight, but if this was how it worked, Minato wanted no more of it.

He fought valiantly for sleep that night, but every time he closed his eyes he saw nothing but the glassy dead eyes of that child staring back at him trough the murky water of the marsh.

* * *

TBC


	8. Coming of Age

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Eight: Coming of Age

* * *

Usually Minato liked to keep his sensei up to date on his health and thoughts or seek his advice when he was troubled, but for once, Minato would not pick up his pen. He didn't want to tell Jiraiya that he'd killed a child, and that now whenever a new wave of enemies came over the horizon and his kunai found a new mark, he had doubts about what he was doing. For instance, what was really the difference between taking the life of a child and that of an adult? Why did life seem more precious the fewer years it had been on this planet? Surely those who were older, who had accumulated more life experience and responsibilities, who likely had people at home who loved and depended on them, were more valuable? If the people he was fighting were only here because, like him, they had been ordered to, were they really his enemies, or were they just another passive tool like one sword rebounding off another in the battlefield?

He'd never thought long and hard about what he was doing out here. He was here because he'd been told to come here, and like a good shinobi he did all that was asked of him without question. He did not know who had started the war between Konoha and Kiri; he'd never really cared. Everyone he knew said it was Kiri, but what if everyone in Kiri was saying it was Konoha?

But doubt in itself was pointless. He had to fight because if they lost the war they lost Konoha. When he met his opponent's eyes, he saw ferocity and a hatred that could not be extinguished with reason. Minato carried on killing because it was the only thing he could do, though sometimes at night he wanted to laugh at how ludicrous the world was. Killing to maintain peace. He used to think the ends justified the means, but for months now... years in fact, nothing had changed. There was no end to it. There just was no end.

Mostly, however, he wondered if he was just scared. He knew he would not be forgetting any time soon the night when he was dragged beneath the water by a boy half his age, who flowed around him almost as if he too was water. Minato had been out of his element. He'd thought he was dead, and he'd lashed out without finesse or strategy. Only by pure dumb luck had he survived and he still wasn't sure how. This wasn't like the time he'd nearly been assassinated by the jonin from the rain country. Back then he'd still felt some acceptance that adults were stronger, that this was the natural order of things, but expected that when he became an adult, the threat would have passed.

To find himself so close to mercy at the hands of a baby...?

For the first time in his life he was shaken, but his solution remained the same; he threw himself into training. It was not enough that he was already fast and strong and smart. He needed to be faster, and stronger, and smarter. He needed to approach every opponent as if it could be his last. There would be no more complacency, and no more underestimation of others. He felt ashamed, after Jiraiya had confided in him that power bred arrogance but told Minato that he was different, because now he could see that his sensei was wrong. He'd always thought himself better than others. He'd shied from the responsibilities the Hokage had represented and he'd naively assumed that just being a tool would be enough to change the world.

That was where Danzou was right. Someone like him could not undo generations of hatred and war with only than a knife in his hand.

This tool's life was just not enough for him anymore.

When Shikaku him at the edge of the camp, tying tags to half a dozen kunai, he approached warily. "Hey, Minato," he greeted, lifting a nonchalant hand.

"Hey," Minato responded without looking up.

"Are you ok, man?" Shikaku asked him.

Minato finally glanced at him in surprise. "Mm? Of course, I am," he said. "Why?"

"Uh... well, you seem kinda intense lately. I mean, you used to always be up for a laugh, but these days you seem so serious," Shikaku looked around the small clearing awkwardly. "Like... what are you doing now?"

Minato palmed his kunai reflexively. "I'm working on my jutsu."

"I thought you finished it," said Shikaku, frowning. "You told me you couldn't increase the range of detection any more. The tags are as good as they'll get."

"That's right," Minato nodded.

"So why aren't you off playing rounders with the guys or, you know... talking to Yoshi. She'd faint with happiness if you just looked in her direction. Stop fucking around with a jutsu you already completed and work on getting some tail."

"I've not completed it, I'm changing it," Minato said with a shrug. "Detection makes this a B-class supplementary technique at best, but with another dynamic I can easily make this an S-class offensive jutsu. I think I've almost cracked it I just need to test a few things."

Shikaku blinked. "Did you hear what I said?"

"What?"

"Minato, man, you're working too hard. I know you've been out here for two years... some of the guys think it's about time you had a break. They're worried you might be getting depressed or something."

Now _that_ surprised Minato. "I feel perfectly happy," he said. "Well... as happy as I ever was."

"What about the nightmares?"

"Mm?"

"Your bunkmates say they've been woken up a few times now by you thrashing around like a lunatic," Shikaku said blandly. "What's that about?"

Minato shrugged, gaze wandering sideways. "I have these dreams... I think I'm turning into a tadpole."

"Uh huh." Shikaku did not sound convinced. "Don't take those rumours too seriously, ok?"

Minato began fiddling with his kunai again.

"Listen... it's your birthday soon, right?"

"... yep." Minato scanned his surroundings, picking out four trees of varying distance from his position and one rock at the top of a steep cliff. One by one, he began to throw his kunai with steady, lethal accuracy, hitting each of his marks with a thud.

"Well, me and the guys were thinking that it would be nice to take a weekend off to celebrate. There's a town a few hours away with some decent entertainment. You're sixteen, right? You're a man now, you know. Gotta enjoy it."

"Yeah," said Minato, who wasn't really listening.

"Couple a nights in a soft bed... good food... you'll feel born again by Monday. There's this place, right, with some really nice girls who'll do anything if you name the right price, like... well, I don't want to spoil it. You interested?"

"Sounds good." Minato had his eyes closed, his mind almost literally elsewhere – three hundred yards away by that tree to be exact. The tag attached to the kunai gave him a rough mental picture of everything within ten metres of the tree it was embedded in, like a fuzzy black and grey canvas. If a person was to walk across this canvas, Minato would see them as a blaze of life and chakra in white. If he threw a few of these kunai into an enemy stronghold he would be able to tell the position of every enemy in seconds. But its usefulness until now had ended there.

"Hey, Minato?" Shikaku piped up. "You spoken to Yoshino about me at all?"

Minato reached out, as if to grab hold of an invisible kunai. He opened his eyes briefly in consternation then closed them again. Belatedly he noticed he'd just been asked a question, "Mm? No."

Shikaku sighed and moved to lean against a tree and stare off in the direction of the communications tent. "I don't think she knows I exist. I tried talking to her once, but she just kind of looked angry, and then I noticed she had her headphones on and couldn't hear a word I was saying-"

With a heavy push of chakra, Minato felt a sensation not unlike crashing through a brick wall. He staggered and gasped for the air that had been crushed out of his lungs, then he realised two things: firstly, Shikaku was still talking, but now his voice seemed quite far away, and secondly, Minato was standing in front of a tree with a kunai in it.

Such a surge of jubilation rocked through him he almost cried out in delight. Not quite, however. He had to make sure this wasn't some kind of fluke. Minato looked to the next tree and tried to repeat the trick. He focused on the unique chakra signature of the marked kunai, moderated his own to match it, increased it, concentrated, rebalanced the positive and negative properties of force that affected the space between objects and-

Minato gasped again as he plunged three hundred metres to a new mark without moving. He did it again. He could no longer hear Shikaku droning on about his love life, which was an improvement on multiple levels.

To the fourth tree. The world ripped past faster than his own brain could keep up. He was dizzy and out of breath and just so caught up in the immense excitement of success that he was beginning to hiccup with laughter. One moment he was by a tree. The next he was on top of a cliff, looking down at his friend who still gesticulated towards the camp.

Minato waved. "OI!" he shouted gleefully, at the top of his lungs.

Shikaku spun around and squinted up at him. Even from here, Minato could see the look of confusion on his face, although it was getting a little blurry now and the horizon was tipping weirdly. It felt like all that space and time he'd just cheated had caught up with him.

And thus from that day onward, it was known that the day Namikaze Minato cracked the legendary Hiraishin jutsu was the same day he fell off a cliff and broke his arm.

* * *

Never in Minato's life had he ever seen so many people make such a fuss over one fractured ulna.

"I'm fine, really," he tried to insist, but nevertheless at least three people insisted on carrying him to the medic-tent, looking at him with such worry one would think he was dying. He'd never broken a bone before, and he had to concede it was a hell of a lot more painful than he'd imagined, but this was a bit much. One of the Yoshinos had _lost_ most of her arm entirely and hadn't got this much of a fuss.

Minato was lumped with the task of fending off a lot of unwarranted concern until the medic arrived, and she was not best pleased when she saw him. For a start, this casualty had interrupted her sleep – something she rarely got and obviously needed more of in order to be civil to people – and secondly, her medic-tent was full of people who weren't sick. "Out!" she shouted unceremoniously. "Out before you trample this place into the marsh!"

With a medic like this, Minato knew to watch himself. Not only was she in a bad mood, but she was Dan's older sister. He reasoned that since Jiraiya-sensei was important to him, and Tsunade was important to Jiraiya, and Dan was important to Tsunade, while Dan's sister was probably quite important to him, here was a connection that warranted especially good behaviour. Minato tried to make not even one peep of pain as she grabbed his arm and seemed to decide the best way to look for a fracture was to shake until she heard a rattling sound.

"Don't see you in here very often," she remarked grumpily. "Last time it was a dirk in the same arm, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Akane-san," he said respectfully, his voice only _slightly _hoarse with pain.

"How'd you manage this one?" she asked. "Catching more scouts, were you?"

"No... I fell, Akane-san."

"In a fight?"

"No... I fell off a cliff, Akane-san."

She looked at him with the same expression she might have worn if he'd said he'd been attacked by a duck. "Of course," she said dryly. "What else should I expect from Jiraiya's student? Two years on the frontlines, but his worst injuries are self-inflicted. Hah! Can't wait to tell the commander about this."

She stretched out his arm curiously. Minato gave a helpless whimper.

"Ah ah. Big boys don't cry," she scolded. "Now let me see... that's a fairly clean fracture. That's good. At least you're considerate enough to make it an easy job – unlike _some_ people. You should have seen Kenzaki's leg. Looked like his femur had been through the wood-chipper when he came here. Compared to that, this'll be a doddle, but you'll have to wear a cast for three weeks."

"It won't interfere with my duty, will it?" Minato asked.

"Of course, it will," she scoffed. "But if I give you a sick note for a self-inflicted injury, the commander will have both our heads and it won't be pretty. You'll have to buck up and be careful. No one gets out of their duty that easily."

"But, I wasn't... I didn't mean..." he mumbled, actually taken aback that anyone might think he'd done this deliberately.

Akane just gave him one coolly arched eyebrow as she turned away to start preparing a splint for him. He probably could have tried to explain to her that he'd been testing out a new jutsu and he'd overdone it, using so much chakra that he'd fainted dead away, which had been just as well, because at least he didn't remember hitting the ground or feeling his bones snap. But did he really have to explain himself? If he'd wanted to go home he could have easily arranged for a more serious injury, one which no one would be able to say was his own doing. And the thing was... Minato didn't want to go home. Not really. Even if he lost every limb and every sense he possessed, he would still insist he was ready and able, even if he was only good for a paperweight.

He didn't know why that was exactly... it wasn't like life on the frontlines was a barrel of laughs, but Konoha seemed to hold even less appeal. Maybe it was because of his father; if there was one thing Minato was quite glad to be rid off, it was that man. Or maybe it was because his sensei was no longer in Konoha and he remembered life being pretty dull and boring whenever Jiraiya was away from the village. Or perhaps because Kushina was away too?

Minato thought about that for a moment before brushing it off. It was the first time he'd thought of her in weeks, and it was unlikely she had anything to do with his aversion to Konoha. More likely he had just gotten used to life out here. Things were hard, and sometimes he missed the simple creature comforts he'd taken for granted in Konoha, but this had been his home for two years now. When he remembered his village, he remembered it through the eyes of a child. He no longer felt like the same person these days...

Akane was just beginning to wrap his forearm in gauze when the commander stormed him. "What is this?" he demanded, pointing at Minato as if he'd never seen a broken arm before.

"Boys will be boys, sir," Minato's medic sighed.

"How is it you came to be injured in your own camp?" Danzou demanded, ignoring her.

"I fell," Minato repeated. Why was this so hard for everyone to believe?

"You _fell_?" Danzou repeated, looking as if he was about to launch into a full volume tirade against him. Instead he turned to Akane. "How extensive is this?"

"Nothing that will impair his duties, I promise," she said shortly. "Please, commander. This is routine work, but setting a gutter cast is very fiddly; I'd appreciate if I had some peace to concentrate...?"

So medics could banish commanders from their dens like any other lowly plebe? Minato heaved a small sigh of relief as Danzou turned and pushed his way back outside. On top of a broken arm, Minato didn't really want to be subjected to another of the commander's lectures, like the one he'd received when that child had managed to stab him. He never noticed anyone else being given an inquisition every time they suffered a papercut. Why was it that Danzou only came to yell at him over-

"Ow," he huffed. Akane was tugging on his hand quite painfully.

"Don't be such a baby," she sighed. "My four year old has more nerve than you."

"You wouldn't treat your fear-year old like this," he muttered incredulously, biting his lip as she yanked his fingers.

"I'll have you know Shizune has broken more bones than you have broken nails, and she has never once complained about my casting skills."

The kid probably wouldn't dare, if she lived in fear of her mother as everyone else did. But Minato did not say that out loud.

"Now shut up and let me work."

When Minato eventually joined Shikaku outside the tent, his friend was looking more concerned than usual. "You alright?" he asked.

Minato, armed with what felt like a concrete block around his wrist, gave it a demonstrative wave and nodded. "I'm ok. You're going to sign it, right?"

"I'll have to beat a path through the rest of your fanclub," Shikaku snorted. "The commander sounded pretty mad. _Daisuke_ told him though, not me. That suck-up..."

"I don't know why he's so bothered about it," Minato said, looking in the direction of the central tent where Danzou was probably quaffing fine wine and putting his feet up on the lowest ranked chunin.

"Maybe he thinks you did it deliberately?" Shikaku guessed half-heartedly with a shrug.

"I didn't," Minato said quickly. "Why does everyone-"

"I was _there_, Minato. I saw your dumb ass fall. I know it was an accident." The Nara boy scratched his head. "And people around here know you well enough to realise you're not the kind of person who stabs himself in the hand to get a free ticket home. But it wouldn't be the first time it happened, so watch yourself, yeah?"

"That's not what the commander is pissed about."

Both Minato and Shikaku turned to glance at Akane who had come to stand at the entrance of her medic tent for a smoke. Even though she'd joined in the conversation, she looked at them as if she wished they'd take it elsewhere.

"Oh, yeah?" Shikaku did a good imitation of her arched eyebrow. "What's he mad at then?"

She blew smoke at him, and Minato watched him try hard not to cough. "The commander will want to be especially careful of this one," she said, pointing her cigarette at Minato. "The Hokage's got his eye on him, and if something suspicious were to happen to him – say, he was injured or killed within the camp with no enemies or witnesses – Danzou would find his neck on the chopping block."

"Why?" Shikaku asked, scowling. "What's so special about Minato?"

"I'll write you up a list, shall I?" she answered sarcastically. "At the top will be that he's going to be Hokage one day."

"Bull." Shikaku looked at Minato, waiting for him to express shock and disbelief too, but when Minato remained unresponsive his face morphed into wonder. "Seriously? Was there some kind of vote that I missed?"

"It's not official," Minato flubbed helplessly. "I'm just a possible candidate. Way, way, in the future. Maybe. I don't think it'll happen."

Akane sneered slightly. "I hate modest people," she said. "Luckily for you, people _love_ that quality in leaders..."

"I don't get why that would give Danzou trouble if Minato was hurt," Shikaku said. "It's not like he would be blamed, is it?"

The medic widened her eyes at him, as if the answer was right there in front of him, but he was just too stupid to see it. Minato didn't get it either, and if Shikaku (the smartest person he knew) couldn't get it...

She sighed at them, vexed. "You youngsters don't keep up with your gossip, do you?" she snapped. "Everyone over the age of thirty knows Danzou wants to be Hokage. He wanted it bad back when Sarutobi was chosen, and though he's played it cool since then, everyone knows he still wants it. The _Hokage_ knows it. If something suspicious were to happen to his favoured successor while under Danzou's care..."

"He'd think Danzou had something to do with it," Shikaku said, looking significantly at Minato at this revelation.

Akane rolled her eyes. "Thank you, captain obvious. Of course it's quite easy to deduct _after _I've spelt it out for you," she said, and ignored Shikaku's glare as she turned her focus back to Minato. "So look at this way, you're pretty damn safe here. Danzou fears the Hokage enough to run around after you with a safety net wherever you go, and the Hokage knows that too. So spare a thought for the poor commander's nerves and try not to do anything as stupid as this in future."

"What if the commander tries to do him in?" Shikaku pointed out.

"Don't even joke," she said, giving him a sharp glare. "The commander is more dedicated to Konoha than anyone. He has a reputation for ruthlessness, but he'd never turn on his own men for political gain. Has he ever given you reason to doubt him?"

Minato recalled the last conversation he'd had with Danzou. Akane's assertion that he jealously coveted the title of Hokage didn't stack with the way he'd acted back then. He'd been encouraging, in his own strange way, of Minato's potential as a candidate, and if he was really so determined to be the Hokage, would he really have spoken like that to someone he considered a rival?

Perhaps decades ago Danzou had wanted to be Hokage, but to say he still wanted that position today had to be pure speculation. As Akane had said, this was only _gossip_, after all. He looked at Shikaku's perturbed expression and smiled. "Think I should start sleeping with one eye open?" As if he didn't already.

"I wouldn't be smiling if someone pointed out to me that an elite ANBU commander had an interest in seeing me dead," Shikaku muttered.

"I think he would have tried something by now if it were true," Minato said. He would not start doubting his commanding officer over _rumours._ When the tools lost faith in the arm that wielded them, that was when Konoha would really be in trouble.

"You know they sent him out here because he was an agitator," Shikaku reminded him.

"So the _rumours_ go. The Hokage also sent me out here too. He wouldn't have done that if he thought the commander was a real threat. Besides, I can look out for myself."

"Leaders aren't infallible, Minato, and neither are you," Shikaku said, eying his cast. "That's your kunai hand. How are you supposed to fight now?"

"Ah." Minato hadn't thought of that. He was naturally right-handed, and although like all nin he had trained his left hand to compensate for occasions just like this, there was no avoiding that his left hand was vastly weaker and less co-ordinated. Regardless, Minato shrugged. "I'll manage."

"This weekend of R n' R is looking more necessary all the time," Shikaku remarked.

* * *

Minato had clean forgotten about his birthday. It was lucky he had far more observant friends like Shikaku who kept track of these things or his sixteenth would have passed him by without incident. In truth, Minato could never be sure what month it was, or even what day of the week it was. Time stopped chugging along in its usual linear fashion when you lived life by a regimented routine that began again every day. It was easy to lose track and feel like you were trapped in a bubble, separate from the rest of the universe.

Before he knew it, the weekend arrived and Shikaku, with a gang of acquaintances, bustled into his tent one afternoon to declare he'd better get ready for they were off in exactly one hour to visit the nearest coastal town for a night of entertainment. There was to be no arguing or excuses; everyone had decided quite unbeknownst to Minato that he had been working too hard and gone through too much without relent, and it was time for a break, even if all they could afford was one night. Although he went along with it all with a smile, Minato was not overly enthusiastic. He had hoped to spend his time off refining his new jutsu at a more sedate pace, and practise training with his left hand before the next mission. But his friends would clearly not take no for an answer, and though he suspected this was actually more about _their_ enjoyment than his, they seemed determined not to leave him behind.

And so off they went. During the two hour trip, Minato had to listen mostly to Shikaku droning on and on about Yoshino. Had she said anything about him? Did she like him? Was she prettier than Haruhi? Was there any way he could contrive to get to know her better?

"Why didn't you just invite her along?" Minato asked.

But Shikaku looked at him like he was crazy. "That's a stupid idea. She'd never speak to me again."

Minato thought this was just Shikaku's insecurity with his own conversational skills showing. He did not realise it was because his friends had some very specific entertainment in mind. Not until they arrived in the town and came to a stop outside a lively place of business called the 'Cathouse'. But there were no cats. Just women.

"_Here_?" Minato's heels dug into the ground as they tried to usher him toward the entrance.

"Don't be a stick in the mud, Minato," one of his friends said. "You'll enjoy it."

"No, I won't," said Minato with quite a bit of certainty. "Isn't there a restaurant or a club or-"

"This _is_ a club." Shikaku was shoving him from behind. "And it's a restaurant."

A restaurant where women were actually _on the menu. _But Minato could not see a way out of this since he'd so obliviously agreed to go along with everything so far. His friends had tightened in a throng around him – not so much friends but some kind of unified rolling block that forced him forward when he'd much rather turn back. The woman waiting at the door greeted them with amazing warmth and pleasure. "Welcome!" She bowed low. "Do you have a reservation?"

It was almost too much to hope his idiot friends had forgotten.

"The six o'clock birthday party," Shikaku said.

"Ah!" The woman clapped her hands. "Which one of you handsome gentleman is having his birthday?"

Someone forced Minato's hand into the air. The woman's eyes found him and twinkled with delight. "I see. How old are you?"

"Six-"

"Eighteen," Shikaku interrupted. "He's eighteen."

What the hell kind of place had they brought him to?!

"So lucky! This must be your first time?" The woman clapped her hands together with a gasp of happiness. Really, she was earning every penny they paid her. "We may have to put on something _very_ special for the birthday boy."

Minato smiled weakly.

"Please, come this way."

The rolling block moved once more, forcing him forward and into the clutches of this sinful establishment. Minato winced as he went through the doors, expecting something awful and lascivious and illegal in most countries, based on the kind of things his friends liked to talk about in their free time.

He was slightly relieved to see the inside resembled a restaurant more closely than it did his preconception of a strip club, but it was a restaurant of a particularly raucous kind with women at every table, entertaining guests in a variety of ways. Minato's quick scan of the room revealed one woman sitting in the lap of one patron while another assailed his friends with a warbling song. There was even one taking off her clothes in that dark corner over-

Minato jerked his gaze back to the fully clothed woman leading the way to a reserved booth, where a set of extremely pretty girls wearing colourful kimonos were waiting for them with welcoming smiles. "Is this the birthday boy?" one said. "You can sit between me and Hari!"

His birthday party, he decided, had a lot of potential to be absolutely excruciating. This was just the kind of thing his friends liked so naturally they had assumed he would like it too if they could just get him to pull the stick from his ass.

Perhaps there was something wrong with him, that he didn't see the appeal in being flanked by two gorgeous women eager to pour him drinks and ask him all kinds of personal questions as if he was the most interesting person on the planet. This was not relaxing, let alone even mildly comfortable.

It was not that he was shy of girls – he'd never found them difficult to talk to, but then most of the girls he knew were not so different from boys. They sweated like boys, they swore like boys, and they loved nothing better to talk with him about the latest design of sword or tanto. This other breed of girl – the kind that got dressed up in heavy clothes and make-up and fawned over men were something he didn't recognise. It would have been easier talking to this brunette if she was wearing grubby shorts and picking her nose.

Why had that image come to him?

"Oh, look at your poor hand!" exclaimed one of the hostesses when he reached for a glass of champagne (for courage and fortitude) and his cast had knocked against the table. At the start of the week it had been pristine white. Now it was nearly black for all scribbled signatures and messages on it. "You _have_ been in the wars, haven't you?"

And she cradled his bandaged arm as if it were the most precious thing she'd ever seen. Minato was speechless.

"He's not been in the wars," Shikaku supplied, already halfway through a bottle of shochu. "He's been fallin' off cliffs, ain't ya, Minato."

"You brave thing," the hostess said admiringly. "It must hurt."

Minato nodded, even though in truth the pain was nothing more than a dull ache that bothered him less and less.

"You boys go through so much to keep our country safe – more wine!" the hostess declared, which was met with an enthusiastic round of cheers from Minato's friends.

But the wine was not doing more to relax Minato. Instead of loosening up and turning into the same kind of dribbling fool as the other boys, he only felt a more pressing urgency to stay on guard. He'd heard about these places. Pouring wine and making small talk may have seemed like good, clean fun, but Minato knew that there was more to their job than this, and as the evening wore on and the drinks flowed more easily and the conversation turned bawdier, Minato felt only increasingly nervous, as if he could feel something coming that he couldn't avoid.

It came when Minato was watching Shikaku having his scars admired rather closely by one of the hostesses. Daisuke, who'd been sitting next to Shikaku, leaned over and whispered something in the other boy's ear. At once Minato knew something was up, as they both looked at him and then grinned. Then Daisuke was waving to one of the passing women, and said something discreet to her while pointing non-too-subtly at Minato.

Like a horrible chain reaction that Minato was helpless to watch unfold, the woman smiled and walked away, heading towards a staff entrance where a man stood as if on guard. The woman said something to the man, and then the man disappeared into the backrooms. Minato glanced briefly at Shikaku and Daisuke. Both were grinning at him like idiots.

"What...?" Minato whispered, dread seeping through his stomach like an acid pill.

When he looked up to the staff entrance, he saw a new woman emerging, dressed in a loose-fitting kimono but with noticeably less make-up than the others. The moment Minato saw her, he knew exactly what she was.

And she was coming this way.

"You didn't!-" he hissed at his friends, whose grins only widened.

Minato looked around for an escape – he was caged on either side by two hostesses, but perhaps if he jumped onto the table and legged it – no. That would ruin everyone's food.

"I hear it's your birthday."

His gaze jumped up to meet the woman now leaning sensually against their table. She had warm chocolate eyes and mahogany hair, and though he knew beauty was biologically predetermined, he almost felt the need to congratulate her for having such a beautiful face. Next to her, the pretty hostesses seemed almost plain.

"Ah..." he said intelligently.

"Why don't you come with me?" she asked, her voice that perfect husky pitch that commanded attention. "We have some other services I think you'll enjoy, Birthday Boy."

Suddenly, Minato rather wanted to spend the rest of the night with the hostesses. They didn't seem quite so threatening now. "I... uh... don't think I have the money to-"

"Your friends have everything covered," she interrupted with a sultry smile. "Although I'd happily make an exception for _you_, my lamb."

Minato's mouth felt incredibly dry. This woman was downright predatory and she was holding out her hand to him expectantly.

"Go on, Minato," egged Daisuke.

"Stop being such a girl and enjoy yourself," Shikaku said sensitively.

This was what they called peer pressure, wasn't it? Minato felt the eyes of all his friends on him, urging him on, and he knew it would be rude to turn this woman away and most likely spoil his friends fun.

He swallowed and took her hand.

Minato was only faintly aware of his friends cheering. He felt a little numbed, as he let the woman lead him along like a mother with a child – for she was far older and taller than he was – through the restaurant and into the quieter passages behind it. She showed him up a set of stairs and along a corridor of many rooms... and there were sounds coming from these rooms; sounds which reminded him of the times when Utatane snuck into her boyfriend's bunk...

The woman brought him to a room that was perhaps the first proper bedroom Minato had seen in two years. In his eyes, this was every bit as opulent and luxurious as Danzou's tent, even though it wasn't much more than a simple bed and a few other modest pieces of furniture.

"Would you like to sit down?" The woman made an elegant gesture to the floor.

Minato fiddled with the edge of his cast. "Sure..."

She gave him a worldly smile as she went to a cabinet and began to fix two drinks on a stout, wooden tray. "This is your first time, isn't it?"

He couldn't help being that obvious. "I guess."

"There's no need to be nervous," she reassured. "This is a natural right of passage in a way."

But Minato didn't understand many rights of passage that didn't involve blowing something up, and he was beginning to suspect the kind of man who took this passage was not really one he wanted to be. "Look," he said, "you're really nice, but I've kinda... got a girl at home."

It was a whopping lie but she couldn't have known that.

"That's ok," she replied, coming over to settle the tray on the floor between them. "She doesn't have to know, and I'm sure she'd understand anyway."

"No, she wouldn't. She'd hit me really hard, probably in the stomach, if she knew I was here." Belatedly, he realised he was describing Kushina.

She smiled at him widely. "Why? We're only sitting and talking. Would you like a drink?"

"No, thanks," he muttered. "I... should really be going anyway."

"Why? What's the rush? What do you think is going to happen here?" She quirked a soft eyebrow at him as she took a delicate sip of the tea she'd poured.

"I think my chastity is under threat," he said honestly.

That's when the woman snorted, quite incongruously with her image so far as a refined, elegant creature. "You're very sweet," she said, mopping her chin, "But we don't have to do anything like that. I'm only here to make you comfortable. Perhaps all _you_ need to be comfortable is an ear for an hour and perhaps a nice massage to ease those poor, tense shoulders?"

"Can I keep my clothes on?" Minato asked.

"We'll see about that," she murmured a little suggestively, not reassuring him in the slightest that her intentions were as pure and honest as she'd made them sound. "Now let me just get my massage oils."

She stood and walked past him, giving him a strong waft of heady perfume and scented balms. There was another scent there too, he noticed, and as he listened to her rummage through a set of drawers behind him he wondered what that scent reminded him of so strongly. It was like a memory... a sense of nostalgia – a feeling instead of an image. What was it? A person...? No, it was a place.

A place like-

Minato threw himself forward and grabbed the tea tray. In a split second the delicate tea set was shattered across the floor, its contents sprayed across the mats and the walls, and Minato was on his back, tray lifted above him as a shield against the ten-inch stiletto dagger that had nearly ended him.

The women looked down at him, as faintly amused as before, the tip of her knife deeply embedded in the back of the tray. "You're very fast," she remarked.

Minato was still recovering from the shock, but he stared up at her in profound relief. "Oh, thank god," he whispered. "You're an assassin."

"Pity it had to be this way... I would happily have shown a pretty boy like you a good time before sending you off to the next world, but alas, all men are the same," she sighed. "They always want to skip the foreplay and go right to the main event. Virgins are the _worst."_

She yanked her knife loose and shook the kimono off her shoulders to free her arms. Minato saw, with great relief, that she had bound her breasts like a normal kunoichi, and within these bandages was tucked a regular old kunai. This had probably been what had given her away. Carefully maintained weapons were kept well oiled and sharpened... and it was a flinty smell Minato had known his whole life. It had been totally out of place for a prostitute – a being from a completely different world – to smell so familiar.

"Now," she declared, flipping her hair back. "Let's see if you can keep up with me after all, my lamb."

No wonder she had seemed so predatory. She had been planning to kill him all along.

But Minato didn't question this, and he only found it slightly strange to have apparently come across yet another enemy this far out of the official warzone. He was more concerned that his weapons were gone, most likely lifted from his person by this kunoichi when he'd been concentrating too much on protecting his virginity. Now all he had was this wooden tray.

It would do. The enemy kunoichi's knives flashed as she struck out at him. They deflected off his make-shift shield with dull thunks and scratches. She tried to aim for his knee, but with a quick hop he stepped back and kicked the kunai from her hand and smashed the tray against her face so hard it broken in half.

Momentarily blinded and stunned, the woman reeled, and Minato dove for the fallen kunai. When she turned to face him again her nose was bleeding profusely, but she didn't seem to care much except to drag her arm across her mouth to smear the blood across her face. She looked at the kunai in his left hand and the cast restricting his other, and smiled. "I'll bet that's your fighting hand too," she said.

He shrugged, not used to such a talkative opponent.

"Kinda shy, ain't ya?" she laughed, and launched herself at him again. Bigger and stronger, she crashed him into the wall and straight through the paper and wooden screens, and rolled with him, head over heels, each grappling for purchase on the other's weapon.

Someone screamed – the room they'd burst into was already occupied. If Minato had glanced away from his would-be assassin he would have seen one half-naked prostitute and her thoroughly naked client leaping off their bed – and both quickly grabbed what clothes they could and ran from the room, raising the alarm. Minato hardly noticed. The woman had grabbed his injured arm and was twisting it painfully, hoping to exploit his weakness. He gave a shout as he kicked her in the stomach, throwing her off him.

His kunai? Where was his kunai? He groped the ground dumbly but all he could find within reach was another tea set. The woman was coming at him again – he heard her quick footsteps on the mats. No time left. He grabbed the tea pot and threw its scalding contents over his attacker.

Boiling water hit her square in the eyes.

She screamed and staggered. Minato saw his opportunity and took it. Moving in swiftly, he deftly snatched the stiletto from her trembling hand and plunged it straight up through her ribs, into her heart and out again. Her cries stopped dead. Her lung had collapsed.

It was a perfect execution, and in moments she was dead.

Minato was still standing there over her body when his friends – most of whom were heavily inebriated – arrived in the doorway.

"We heard there was a fight," Shikaku said breathlessly. "We thought... oh, shit... Minato... what happened?"

He shrugged, because he still wasn't sure of that himself. "She attacked me."

"Why?" his friend frowned, coming over to examine the kunoichi's body. "Who was she?"

Minato shrugged again. "An assassin, I think."

"Targetting you? Why? Who sent her?" Shikaku ran a hand through his hair. "Why didn't you leave her alive? We could have questioned her."

Minato had not actually thought of that. His body had moved as if he was on the battlefield. Someone like him was not used to questioning the motives of his opponents; you simply killed those who would kill you and moved on to the next life and death encounter. He had thought only of defending himself and neutralising the threat.

He raised a hand to his head and closed his eyes. He'd been out here too long... he'd become too comfortable with mindless killing. Now he was forgetting there was any other way.

"You ok?" Daisuke asked him carefully.

Minato just sighed. "Can we just go back to the base now?"

Finally, no one argued with him.

* * *

Predictably, Danzou was outraged that Minato had yet again nearly managed to get himself killed. He lectured Minato at great length, and quite loudly, about the vice of the flesh being the downfall of many a great man, until there were few people left in the camp who didn't know Minato had spent his birthday in a brothel.

His bunkmates found this hilariously shameful; not because he'd visited a brothel – oh, no. Minato's shame was in visiting a brothel and _still _emerging a virgin. He smiled patiently at their jibes and jokes, but he couldn't quite see the funny side. It seemed that no matter where he went, death followed. He could have incapacitated that kunoichi and questioned her, but he'd killed her without thought, without mercy.

That aspect at least had pleased Danzou. He was becoming the perfect little tool, no longer mired by hesitancy. He killed men, he killed women, he killed children. A perfect tool was a perfect shinobi, and only a perfect shinobi could become a Hokage. If he wanted to bring an era of peace, first he'd have to slaughter his way to the top.

What a funny old world it was.

If Shikaku had hoped that taking him out for his birthday would make Minato less intense, he would have to ruefully admit that nearly being killed by a prostitute was not conducive to relaxation. Minato spent more time alone, training harder, fighting harder. Within a few months there was already talk of him being promoted to jonin, despite this being a privilege usually only gained by those in their mid-to-late twenties, if at all. A sixteen year old jonin was unprecedented, but for Minato the idea was met with general enthusiasm by his comrades. Even if it had only been a rumour, and Danzou had never thought once about promoting him, the commander was now forced to consider it as if it _had_ been his idea now that so much support ran through the camp.

Eventually a decision was reached, and Minato was called forth once more to Danzou's Tent of Extravagance.

"I'm sure," he said to Minato, "you are aware that the possibility of your promotion has been heavily discussed between me and my captains."

Until this point, Minato had merely brushed off this rumour, assuming it was about on the same level as the rumour that Saito Hideki had once screwed a sheep.

"We have decided that although you have shown exceptional talent and drive befitting of a high-class chunin, you have not yet demonstrated the qualities of leadership and independence that the position of jonin would require. As it stands I would not be comfortable assigning people to your care. Not until you have proven yourself, at least."

Minato felt a small flicker of annoyance. He had not come here to demand a promotion and had never expected one, yet here Danzou was, talking down to him as if he was an upstart with an excessive sense of entitlement. "I shall keep that in mind, sir," he said, with a perfectly schooled tone. "Is that all you wished to tell me?"

Danzou smiled wryly. "Not so fast, Namikaze," he said. "I say you are not ready _now_ for you have not yet been given ample opportunity to prove yourself. No doubt... _soon_... you will surprise us as you are prone to doing, and that is when we shall look to the possibility of a promotion. And I'm sure the Hokage will be _very_ interested to see you progress."

Minato looked at the encouraging expression on his commander's face, and suddenly the missing pieces of a puzzle he hadn't known existed began to fall into place. His heart, so close to soaring a moment ago began to plummet. Before Danzou could witness any stray emotion he couldn't rein in, he bowed low and left the tent with a soft, respectful thank you.

"Letter for you," Daisuke said, as Minato passed him on his way back to his bunk.

Minato snatched the letter from the other boy's hands in a way that no doubt left Daisuke wondering what he'd done to offend, and went to read it on his bedroll.

It was from Jiraiya, and for once it was good news.

_The salamander king is a tough old bastard,_ his sensei wrote, _but I think we've got him on the run now. He's named me and my team the 'Sannin'. I hope it doesn't catch on, I was kinda hoping for something a little more personal and impressive, you know? Like 'The Magnificent Jiraiya', or something else you could wear a proper cape with. With this war winding down, maybe we'll see other soon?_

It was good to hear that at least the war with the rain country was going well, but Minato didn't share his sensei's optimism that they would see each other. The war with Kiri was pretty much exactly where it was when Minato arrived, and he didn't see it ending any time soon. He'd come here feeling hopeful that he would at least make a difference, but the stalemate could not be broken. Not by him. Not by some nobody _chunin. _He could be trapped here for years.

Or, at the rate he was going, Minato could be dead long before it ended anyway.

* * *

TBC


	9. Call of Duty

**The Girl from Whirlpool**

Chapter Nine: Call of Duty

* * *

The day everything changed came just a few months later. Minato awoke in a camp that was alive with activity and talk, and he watched this all with mild consternation as took his shower and brushed his teeth. Something was clearly in the air that morning, but Minato was slightly more preoccupied with his face.

"Can I borrow a razor?" he asked Shikaku.

"No," said Shikaku at once.

"I need to shave."

"You don't need to bloody shave. You're blond. No one can see your weak-ass beard."

Minato scratched his cheek. "I can feel it though."

"There's barely anything there," Shikaku said dismissively. "If you want to scratch that fluff off your chin, get your own razor. Or use a kunai."

And so Minato arrived in the breakfast tent with a face cut to hell, courtesy one a kunai that had been slightly on the rusty side. Thankfully, before anyone could comment, a strange hush fell over the tent. Minato looked up to see Danzou and one of his captains had entered. Normally they ate separately, so the only reason they were be here now was to make an announcement.

Minato wondered if the time had come at last...

"As some of you might already know," the captain began, and several people including Minato moved to sit on the tables to see him better, "Kiri's outpost on the First Island has received reinforcements that put their number at double what it was before."

Minato's spoon fell into his bowl with a clack.

"Well, shit," Shikaku sighed quietly to himself.

"We have also received word from our spies that the reinforcements belong to General Akuze, who you'll most likely know as one of the seven swordsman, second only to the Mizukage in skill and one of the best military strategists alive. He is also at the outpost and its suspected that they may be preparing to launch one massive offensive against this very camp. With their numbers and a strategist like Akuze leading them, it's very possible that we will be overwhelmed within a week."

"I think I want to go home," Shikaku whispered, and he didn't look as if he was joking. Plenty of people around them were looking grim.

"The situation is very dire," Danzou began, taking over from his captain. "But we may prevail if we act quickly and decisively. Frontal assaults against the outpost on the island have failed in the past and with their numbers today it would be next to impossible to drive them out by force. However, with the new arrivals, the outpost will be seeing a lot of strange, new faces and we have been presented with an opportunity to place one of our own among them who is unlikely to be detected. We have decided that in order to save this camp and our village and strike a devastating blow to Kiri, we will assassinate General Akuze."

Minato remained quite still as everyone around him shifted uncomfortably. Everyone knew what was coming, or at least they thought they did. Minato had a better idea of what was really going on.

"While we fortify this camp and call for reinforcements, we need someone to infiltrate the Kiri base. This may be asking a lot, perhaps even asking the impossible, but we need someone of exceptional skill and talent and discretion to take down Akuze." Danzou's eye drifted over the faces of his subordinates as he spoke, as if looking for his assassin. "This person must also understand the risks. Even once Akuze is down, escape is unlikely. But if this brave man succeeds this could turn the tide of this war for good."

Danzou's gaze lingered on Minato for far too long to be a coincidence.

"I would like you all to think about this," the commander went on. "And any volunteers may come to my quarters tonight and-"

Minato stood. "I'll do it."

All eyes turned on him. Danzou looked back at him slowly. "There may be no coming back from this mission, Namikaze," he said. "Do you understand that?"

"Yes, sir, and I wish to volunteer," Minato said.

Danzou smiled, but as usual, there was something unpleasant about it. "Indeed? How noble of you... how like Sarutobi, you are."

He swept out with his captain, and after an awkward lull, people resumed their breakfast. But now the mood was dismal and everyone kept shooting furtive, worried looks at Minato.

Shikaku grabbed his hand. "I need to talk to you."

"Sure." Minato crammed the rest of his toast into his mouth as Shikaku dragged him from the tent and round to back to a secluded spot between two stacks of crates. There, he turned to Minato and folded his arms.

"You can't do this," he said. "This is a suicide mission."

"Yes, I know," Minato said.

Shikaku's foot bounced impatiently. "I mean, it's a _suicide_ mission, Minato. Danzou may be only too happy to send you off with bad info and malfunctioning weapons to make sure you _definitely _die, but the rest of us don't actually want to see you dead. Shit, the guy probably set this whole thing up just to try and get rid of you."

"He did."

"What?" Shikaku's foot went still. "'He did' what?"

"Danzou _is_ trying to kill me, you were right," Minato said simply. "But then Akuze is trying to kill everyone, so I'll take my chances."

"Minato..." His friend frowned at him in concern. "When did you-"

"Do you remember the prostitute that tried to kill me?" Minato asked, as if any of them would ever forget as long as they lived. "We never got to question her, but she was obviously an assassin meant for me. She didn't choose me at random."

"I know everyone else thinks you're the centre of the universe, but don't you start thinking that," Shikaku joked, though he didn't seem to disagree.

"The only people who knew I was going to be there that night were you and our friends," Minato reminded him. "Daisuke was the one who suggested the prostitute, right? Daisuke was the one who asked for her? Daisuke, the suck-up, who would lick Danzou's boots if the opportunity presented itself?"

Shikaku scowled. "You're suggesting Daisuke is a traitor?"

"No, I think he's perfectly loyal – to the commander at least. But the kunoichi was almost definitely sent by Danzou, and Danzou has been trying to manipulate me into taking a mission like this for a long time."

"And you're just going to let yourself be manipulated?" Shikaku demanded. "Put your foot down – say no! Ask for a transfer before he really does get you killed!"

"Danzou may want me dead, but he's right too!" Minato argued. "Killing Akuze would be the greatest turnabout for this war in ten years! This is worth the risk!"

"No, it's not, Minato, you dumb ass! It's a trap!" Shikaku shouted. "You won't get within a mile of Akuze before his guards have you drawn and quartered – and even if you got to Akuze yourself, he's one of the fucking swordsman! He'll have your head off faster than you can blink! Minato, you're not god! You're no match for someone like that!"

"Someone's got to try!"

"You're throwing your life away!"

"If I can't make a difference then I'm better off dead anyway!"

Shikaku stepped away from him, looking strange. "I'm going to find Yoshino. I'll get her to contact the village and get you transferred back there. I don't think you're fit enough to be out here anymore."

"Do what you like." Minato shrugged and left him.

Even if the order for a transfer came before the mission, Danzou would block it. He wouldn't want to waste this opportunity to send a rival into the clutches of an extremely powerful enemy. Shikaku could try to raise a fuss in the village if he liked, but in the mean time, Minato went to his bunk to begin arranging his weapons and scrolls. If he was going to take on a heavily fortified outpost and one of the seven swordsmen, he would need to plan this carefully.

His bunkmates came and went. Most clapped his shoulders and offered half-hearted support and good-luck, as if they felt they were wasting their breath on someone who was already dead. A few, like Shikaku, seemed convinced he'd misheard the commander and that if they pointed out this was a suicide mission enough times, he might change his mind.

Minato remained resolute, and when the time came he made his way to Danzou's quarters to be briefed.

The commander and his captains showed him maps and layouts and made him memorise the Kiri salute and some 'typical' Kiri nin behaviour, as well as a made-up name and rank in case he was questioned. Given that Danzou had an interest in seeing him fail, Minato wasn't sure how much stock he could place in this information, so he decided not to rely on it too much. He accepted the clothes they gave him – taken from a Kiri nin's corpse similar in size to himself – and was told that how he chose to assassinate the general was up to him.

He was effectively on his own.

As he headed back to his bunk to gather his supplies, he found his path blocked by Yoshi.

"I heard you're taking that suicide mission," she began, biting her lip nervously. "Is it... is it true?"

He shrugged. "I'm going on the mission, yeah," he said. There was nothing officially suicidal about it though, so he refused to say it.

"Couldn't... someone else go?" she asked.

"It has to be someone," he said. "It might as well be me."

"Yes, but you're – I mean-" She swallowed hard. "I don't want you to die, Minato."

He smiled patiently. "Thanks, Yoshi."

"I wanted to tell you, so badly, but now there's no time," she whispered. "_Stupid, stupid_... I shouldn't have waited this long...!"

"Waited for what?" he asked.

"To tell you I-I love you!"

"Oh," he said. "Ok."

They stood awkwardly, neither able to look directly at the other.

"Um," he began. "Do you want to be my girlfriend or something?"

"You're going on a suicide mission!"

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry." He scuffed his foot against the earth. "Maybe after then?"

She looked at him dubiously, her eyes wide and wet. It made him feel a little uncomfortable. "Do you really think you're coming back from this?"

He shrugged again. No one else seemed to like his odds, so why should he?

Yoshi sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I don't want you to go, but if I can't change your mind at least let me give you something."

This all seemed very familiar. The last time a girl had not wanted him to leave on a dangerous mission, she'd given him a good luck charm. Minato was just wandering what the hell had happened to that thing when Yoshi quietly leaned in and pressed her mouth against his.

So _this_ was what a kiss felt like? Sort of wet and soft and... kind of gross.

Who'd invented this crap?

Minato eased back as quickly as could still be conceivably polite. He smiled at Yoshi, who was really a very nice, pretty girl with fashionably long, blonde hair – and he'd always liked long hair on girls. But it was strange how her kiss had startled him into remembering another girl... a girl whose face he could barely remember.

"What are you thinking about?" Yoshi asked.

He did not say he'd been thinking about Kushina, and some long-forgotten warning about meeting exciting new girls. "About my mission," he said.

"Oh," she looked away, even more deflated than before. Perhaps he really should have been thinking about her instead?

"This is kind of a bad time," he admitted softly. "Maybe we can talk when I get back?"

Tears rose fast in her eyes as she began to step away from him. "Right," she said, sounding angry. "But we both know that's not happening. It's ok. I get it. You don't like me."

"Yoshi – no – I like you, it's just-"

"It's just you'd rather rush off on your little suicide mission than take a minute to talk to me. I _get_ it, Minato. You're just another guy who'd rather die than make time for me! I don't know why I ever thought you were different." She turned and stomped away.

Minato was left speechless. He wandered back to his bunk and dumped his new set of clothes on the bed roll as he grabbed his old rucksack and began rummaging through it. Yoshi was quite gone from his thoughts; he simply was not capable of worrying about the possibility of a love life on the dawn of what was likely to be the last mission of his life, period. Conversely, what _did_ worry him was finding that charm – in fact, he was growing increasingly frustrated that he'd misplaced it. He took the bag and held it over his bed and shoot it with such ferocity that even some of the lining began to fall out.

Something plopped onto the bed by his knee.

"Ah!" he cried and snatched it up, holding it to one of the lamps to make sure it was unharmed.

Aside from some unnamed black gunk that was stuck to the back, the little amulet was just as he'd left it. Now he remembered why he'd put it away – he'd ripped it off so hard after one partocularly devastating mission that the flimsy little clasp at the back had broken and he'd nearly lost it. But now more than ever he decided he needed a little good luck on his side, so he tied the amulet around his neck and knotted it at the back so that the only way to take it off would be to cut it off. He had never considered himself superstitious, but in this instance he could not explain why he felt so much easier with this thing around his neck than without it.

He quickly changed the rest of his clothes, donning the dull ochre vest and a jade green yukata that many Kiri nin wore. His Konoha forehead protector was exchanged for one bearing the Kiri symbol, and with this the transformation was complete. He strapped his supplies around his leg and made his way to the eastern side of the camp where his journey would begin.

A crowd of his comrades were already waiting there to wish him farewell. A few were crying. None of them really believed they would see him again, and Shikaku was notable for his absence. The guy was probably still wrangling with central command, but it was too late. There would be no turning back now.

"Take care, Minato."

"We'll buy you drinks when you get back."

"Give that Akuze guy one for us."

And then Minato set off across the delta, heading into the night and the heart of the Water Isles where hundreds of enemies awaited him.

* * *

The seven swordsmen were famous throughout all the shinobi nations as being a handful of the most formidable fighters in the world. They were also a very unknown quantity. Born out of the violent blood trials so many of Kiri's children were submitted to, half of them were mad, wild rogues who answered to no one. The ones who stayed behind, who pledged allegiance to the village that had brutalised them, were perhaps the most insane of all. Akuze was certainly not known to be an even-tempered leader, and Minato wasn't sure what to expect if or when he finally had his target in his sights.

To conserve chakra, he swam the channel between the shore and the First Island, then stayed low between the craggy cliffs to dry off and recover. He needed every ounce of strength. Every advantage he could ensure. He jammed one of his marked kunai into the cliff face, knowing that if things got tough, this would be his only escape, though he wouldn't hold his breath for his technique's effectiveness. It still took several seconds to activate and that was already several seconds too long.

Silently, Minato set off towards the island's outpost, mindful of avoiding the patrolling sentries in the forest. There seemed to be many more of them than he remembered but slipping past them unseen was easy enough if he kept his wits about him.

The outpost was a different matter.

_His_ camp had about six people on watch duty at any given time, but this place had no less than thirty. With high walls and five watch towers, Minato couldn't see a way in that didn't involve crossing directly into the line of sight of the guards, for the forest around the outpost had been cleared and the ground flattened. There was no way of crossing this barren zone undetected, and no doubt they had a barrier or two that would detect a stranger trying to sneak inside.

Minato stayed at the edge of the tree-line to assess the situation and memorise the general layout of the outpost. The maps Danzou had given him to memorise were _roughly_ accurate, but there were far more people here than anticipated. They'd said three hundred, max. Minato would guess in truth it was roughly twice that.

No good. Minato sighed and headed back out into the forest. He would have to do this the tedious way if he wanted into that compound.

A sentry was easy enough to come by. He picked one wandering noisily through the bracken, bored and sulky and young. He wasn't taking his job seriously and that would be his downfall. Minato dropped down from the tree above and knocked the sentry to the ground. In seconds, he'd broken his neck and upon the dead boy's chest he placed a mark.

This would have to be enough. Minato dragged the body as close to the compound as he dared and then retreated back to the furthest edges of the island to wait. This was a patient game he had to play. Eventually his superiors or comrades would notice the sentry was missing and come looking, although depending on their competency, that could be in just a few hours or a few days. But once they did, it was only natural that they would retrieve the body and bring it straight into the heart of their little outpost.

And then Minato would have a direct ticket inside.

He didn't have to wait long. Just a few hours and a couple a snack-bars later, he detected movement around his corpse bait, and sat up to concentrate. It was just one person – perhaps the person who'd come to take over the sentry's shift – standing over the body, and examining it. This one quickly left, but a few minutes later three more bodies appeared. Then, as Minato had hoped, they picked up the body and began to move it.

The alarm would be going out now that there was an enemy on the island. More sentries would be sent out and they would almost certainly tighten security around the outpost. They would not, however, be looking within their camp for their foe, which was exactly where Minato hoped to be before this forest was swarming with Kiri nin.

He tracked the progress of the corpse carefully, as it passed through the gates into the compound and was taken inside some kind of one-room shack. There were multiple people in there, milling around, probably discussing the body and what had caused the death. Minato's foot began to tap a little impatiently. Was it just him, or did those swishing sounds in the forest sound like footsteps coming closer?

_Come on, people_, he willed silently. _I haven't got all day._

Most of the people in the room disappeared from the scope of his tag's senses. Had they left? All he could detect now was one person... perhaps a doctor or a surgeon that had been left to deal with the body? Should he wait to see if this last person left or assume this was about as alone as this body would get for quite some time?

He ran out of time.

"...tracks lead this way."

"You sure?"

"Pretty fresh."

Minato huddled down a little tighter behind his tree. He'd been followed. Perhaps these were just two sentries who'd stumbled across his tracks, or they had been sent out especially to look for him. Either way, Minato was out of options. If he tried to move away, he risked being seen. He needed to be inside that outpost_ now_.

And so he activated the jutsu and felt the now-familiar rush as his body was jerked noiselessly a mile and a half in a fraction of a millisecond. It was always disorientating. Minato swung dizzily for a moment before the overpowering smell hit him. He gagged. But he wasn't alone in this room he'd landed in, and the second he caught movement out the corner of his eye he dove for cover, hands still pressed over his mouth and nose to keep from breathing in that putrid stench.

"...Ah... now it's gone... how curious..."

Minato didn't move, let alone breathe. There was too much of a chance that he would throw up if he took another lungful of that rusty, decaying smell, and that wouldn't look good on a mission report. Instead his eyes darted around, trying to identify exactly where he'd appeared and how to get out.

"Ayato... the mark's disappeared... did you get the photograph? Ayato, you stupid boy..."

Footsteps faded out of the room and away down a corridor. Minato, assured he was alone, sprang up.

It was an abattoir. There was no other way to describe this room full of bodies – _human_ bodies – sliced open on tables and hanging from hooks. More than a few wore Konoha uniforms, and Minato tried not to look too closely. He didn't want to recognise anyone here.

He saw daylight through an open door. Perhaps it was open to let fresh air in, but in through the same door came the insects and flies. Minato heard them buzzing around the corpses he fled past, and he didn't once open his mouth to suck in a breath until he was outside, standing around the back of a group of one-storey wooden shacks. He breathed deeply, eyes clenched shut as he tried to compose himself. He'd always known Kiri nin were barbarians, but that this was a monstrosity that had not yet been reported.

Minato lingered in this quiet little alley between the shacks until he could lift his head and resume a more nonchalant facade. His fingers squeezed the amulet around his neck for good luck before he stepped out into the busy courtyard, hoping to high heaven that no one would take one look at him and take him for what he actually was.

Unfortunately, here was the thing about Minato: he was not just conventionally handsome, he was beautiful. The mark of a successful spy was his ordinariness; having a bland, unmemorable face was key to slipping right through the heart of enemy territory without ever standing out or being noticed.

So unbeknownst to Minato, the moment he stepped out into the open, he was clocked by several pairs of eyes.

His first impression was that this was not even remotely like his own camp. There were three times as many people, for a start, and there was a cramped dirty smell in the air that always accompanied too much overcrowding in too little a space. But the people themselves were different too. The most prominent activity in this compound was one enormous ring of chanting individuals preoccupied with two sparring partners in their midst. At least, he thought they might be sparring. It could have just been a spontaneous brawl.

A woman was watching him. She looked away when he met her gaze, but it was enough to put him on edge. She had only been checking out his pretty face, and wondering why she'd never noticed him before, nevertheless Minato took it as a sign to get moving; he was already attracting attention and rousing suspicion.

Where was General Akuze? If he was anything like Danzou, he would be wiling away most of his time in the biggest tent or shack with every other high ranked shinobi. Minato began to casually move in the direction of the most likely clump of buildings on the other side of the compound.

He passed a group of Kiri chunin gathered around a barrel of water.

"...picked off one of our guys this morning," a woman said. "They're getting desperate, those Konoha bastards."

"Probably heard Akuze is coming for them. I'd be nervous if I were them."

"Screw them, _I'm_ nervous," said the woman. "I don't like that guy. Too many teeth. He killed his assistant last night just because she dropped a book while he was sleeping; woke him up, you see."

"I don't care as long as he helps us win this war," said her friend. "And don't be so open about your criticism. If he'll kill someone for waking him up, he'd happily kill any of us for complaining... and you don't know _who's_ listening."

They both looked around suspiciously, eyes landing on Minato who quickly began to move on. At least he'd confirmed Akuze was here at all. It had actually crossed his mind that Danzou might have made the whole thing up in an effort to reach for an excuse – any excuse – to send him off on a fool's errand from which he might not return.

So just where was this general, anyway?

"Oi, you!"

Minato jerked to face the man pointing at him. It looked like a jonin.

"What are you loitering for?" he demanded. "Haven't you got work to do?"

"I'm looking for General Akuze," Minato answered with perfect honesty. He left out the part about why.

"Akuze? He's over by the armoury, but I wouldn't bother. If you waste his time, he'll probably kill you."

"Thanks," Minato said, and he guessed that large building over there with all the weapons and armament stacked along its walls was probably the armoury. He was aware of the jonin's eyes on his back as he crossed towards it. If the man thought he was untrustworthy, he clearly wasn't too concerned about stopping him from seeing the general. From the sound of him, the man was about as good to his friends as he was to his foes.

Minato knew him the moment he rounded the corner and saw him.

Akuze stood at least two heads taller than everyone else around him, and looked distinctly... odd. Though it was fairly common for some Kiri nin to possess a few physical aberrations, the general took it to the extreme. His skin was the same pale, watery green as she marshes and his hair was long and white and streaked with... was that samphire? And if this didn't tip him off, the enormous sword strapped to his back certainly did. Minato took one look at that weapon and swallowed. Anyone who could swing that around with any sort of proficiency was a force to be reckoned with.

The general was berating someone. Some minor detail had not met his expectations and hell was being paid, and Minato noticed how everyone nearby was keeping several sword lengths away from him. This was not looking good. Although Minato had been winging it since the moment he'd arrived on the island, he had been hoping that the actual assassination could be quick if he could just slip casually past the general and slide a kunai into one of his vital points before he noticed an extra member of his entourage, but Minato could see that approaching Akuze now would be quite obvious. Only assassins and lunatics went near that man, obviously.

"And why hasn't he been caught yet?" the general was bellowing at a comparatively small man.

"We're combing the island, sir," the man replied, looking remarkably calm for a voice that trembled so. "If one of Konoha's people are trespassing, we'll find them. But so much time has passed... it was likely a scout who has long since gone."

Ah. They were talking about him. Minato sidled forward and joined the back of the crowd who were looking on. A few people glanced at him but most took no notice.

"The body was found less than a mile away from this outpost, far outside his patrol area! Whoever did it wanted us to find that body. Why?!"

The man's mouth worked. "I-I don't know-"

"How do you know whoever did this has left the island?" Akuze demanded. "Hm?"

Minato oozed forward through the crowd, slowly and casually enough to not even alert the people he was squeezing past.

"We've increased patrols... they haven't reported anything yet," the man stammered to his general.

"And have you checked _our_ defences? Have you made perfectly sure that no one has infiltrated this camp?"

"Th-The barriers have not been violated," said the man. "If anyone had attempted to enter this outpost illegally we would know about it."

"I have been here all of two days and I could tell you ten different weaknesses in your defences here," Akuze spat. "Don't tell me it's impossible for a rat to penetrate this place when its riddled with holes!"

Minato had now situated himself at the front of the crowd directly behind the general. The kunai was in his hand, hidden by his volumous green sleeves. He just needed to take a deep breath and go for the plunge. This mission might prove to be far easier than everyone back in his camp had insisted.

"I-I assure you, this camp is secure, sir."

"Then – what – is – this-!"

One second, Minato had been lifting his kunai, ready to close the gap and end his mission. The next, he was staring down the length of a sword longer than his body, its tip barely an inch from the end of his nose. He stopped dead, hand frozen in mid-air.

"What a lot of fuss for such a small rat," Akuze said, looking him straight in the eye. That was when Minato noticed his mouth was full of many rows of sharp, pointed teeth like a shark, and his eyes had the queer, squashed pupils of a toad. "Who might you be?"

"No one of consequence," Minato said, looking around at all the nin who were taking out their weapons. He was badly outnumbered here. With the element of surprise gone, he had lost every advantage he had desperately needed to succeed,

"I'll give you credit for getting past the wards," Akuze said. "But I'm insulted Konoha would send a babe to try and take me out. I think I'll send them a message... slowly... piece by piece... finger by finger."

Minato acted swiftly. He threw down a smoke bomb and lunged forward blindly. But maybe those frog eyes gave Akuze unnatural sight, since he had no trouble reaching through the smoke to catch Minato's arm and swing him away, straight into the wall of the armoury. Stunned, he had only enough time to grab one of the katana he'd fallen on and scramble up the wall and onto the roof before the giant sword sliced an enormous gash out of the building where he'd landed.

The man was relentless. No sooner had Minato's foot touched down on the slates of the roof than he had to spin to avoid another sledgehammer blow. And it looked like the rest of the Kiri nin in this outpost were not content to sit back and let their superior fight one-on-one. Minato rapidly fired off a wind jutsu to deflect a rain of senbon and blocked a well-aimed kunai with the scabbard of his katana, all the while he slashed the chakra charged blade of his sword at the general to keep him at bay.

This was crazy. He'd taken on one of the seven swordsmen and a whole outpost of nin who couldn't be defeated with the combined force of his entire camp. In desperation, Minato slashed apart his own sash and threw his yukata at Akuze to block his line of vision. He moved in fast, hoping that if he could just ram a sword through his heart and get it over with, he could activate Hiraishin and get the hell out of there.

Minato had to halt and immediately wheel back as the general's body exploded outwards, inflating to such an incredible size his clothes ripped and spines rose, jabbed threateningly outwards, weeping poison. The man was a goddamn pufferfish! Minato threw a kunai, hoping he might pop like one too, but the blade, even charged with chakra, just bounced harmlessly off the general's pebbled green skin.

_What the hell did I get myself into?_ Minato thought wildly, diving off the roof to run between the shacks to gain some distance and some time to think. Hapless nin charged forward to confront him, but Minato cleanly cut them away. He had no problem with those who stayed well out of his way, but those who insisted on interfering met with a short, sharp death.

Minato's flight was brought to another abrupt halt as the earth turned to impossibly sticky glue. Someone had quite the clever little jutsu. He fired a razor-sharp wind jutsu at the culprit and before the man had even hit the ground, Minato had cut himself free of his own shoes to keep running.

"_Where are you going?!"_

Akuze slammed into the ground before him, landing so hard he might have caused a crater. Minato raised his sword in defence. Although the general had deflated now, he was still larger than any opponent Minato had ever faced, and the way he handled that sword like it was no heavier than a toothpick was alarming. Still, his swings were – in Minato's eyes – slow and easily predicted. He ducked beneath each slash easily and though he couldn't get close enough to land a hit himself, he knew that the legendary sword was no danger as long as he kept an eye on it. And at least when he was fighting in such close range with the general, no one else would dare attack him for fear of hitting their rather bad-tempered, murderous leader.

"You have a familiar face," Akuze said, forcing Minato to cartwheel out of the path of his sword. "What relation are you to Namikaze Midoriko?"

Minato slashed at the air, releasing a gust of wind that should have cut a normal person in half, but the general seemed to have toughened up his skin for this fight – it washed over him like a weak puff of air.

Akuze barely noticed. "Are you her brother? Her nephew? Her _son_ perhaps?"

Minato did not have conversations with people he intended to kill. With steely calm, he was working out a plan... one final move that would decide who lived here today and who died. He just needed to find the right position.

"You're a shy one, aren't you?" Akuze sneered.

"I have nothing to say to you," Minato rebuked.

"You sound just like her too. You _are_ that stuck-up bitch's son, aren't you? What are you here for? Revenge?" The general laughed. "How fitting that I get to kill the mother _and_ the child."

Minato stumbled. He hesitated. In that brief, split-second, Akuze spat a glob of ice-cold water at him and hit him square in the chest. Minato fell. The water closed around him, turning rapidly to ice and fixing him to the ground. Only his left arm remained free, and all he held in this hand was a kunai.

"Ah, gotcha." Akuze straightened, swinging his sword up and onto his shoulder in triumph. "Did you actually believe that? Kid, I never met your mother in my life, but I reckon there isn't a nin over the age of twenty who didn't rip her page out of the bingo book and paste it onto their bedroom wall. You have her eyes... and her sexy mouth."

It was no use struggling against the ice. Minato lifted his hand and threw the kunai as hard as he could.

Akuze sidestepped it lazily, letting it hit the wall of the building a few metres behind him. "That was your last, best shot and you missed? That's pretty sad. Seems that talent isn't hereditary, after all."

He moved to stand above Minato, lifting his sword, execution style. "Now... give a message to that coward Danzou for me..."

But as he swung down with enough force to sever Minato's head from his body, Minato disappeared.

Witnesses in the final moments of that fight would agree that it was too fast to be any mere body flicker technique. One moment the blond boy was pinned to the ground, about to die, the next he was standing beside the kunai in the wall behind Akuze. Then, quite simply, he reached out and touched Akuze in the middle of his naked back.

Then he disappeared again, this time for good.

Akuze roared angrily for the compound to be searched for the boy – to leave no rock or crate unturned. The brat couldn't have gone far, he raged. And when he was found he was to be kept alive so Akuze could have the personal pleasure of killing him, for no one had gotten away from him before.

But soon the bravest of his underlings began to point out that there was something _on his back_. A mark. One which bore an uncanny resemblance to the mark the dead sentry had been found with. No amount of scrubbing or chakra cleansing could remove it, and when no sign of Minato could be found anywhere, the coroner who had been charged with investigating the sentry's body was called in for answers. However, the man had few. It might have been a tracking jutsu, he suggested. Or perhaps a doom jutsu? One which would, after a certain period of time, kill whoever bore it.

General Akuze did not like this one bit, and when he retired to bed that night he demanded no less than twenty guards surround his shack, just in case the assassin returned to finish the job. He lay down with his sword in easy reach and assured himself that no green Konoha brat stood a chance against twenty of his best men.

At midnight he awoke to a slight weight on top of him, and when he opened his eyes, he saw his blond assassin above him. How had he gotten in? Why hadn't he heard him? Why... was his bed full of blood?

He screamed out to his guards, but by the time they entered he was dead.

The guards, when later pressed for details as to how one of the most powerful men in the world had been silently murdered in his bed, could only shrug and say they saw a yellow flash and nothing more.

* * *

Minato rather enjoyed Danzou's expression when he dropped the legendary sword at his commander's feet. He'd dragged it twenty miles just for this moment alone, to see Danzou struggle to hide his anger and disappointment behind the expected mask of pride and satisfaction. "You did well," he managed to force out, then absconded quite rapidly to his tent, probably to have a tantrum.

"Well?" repeated Shikaku incredulously, who seemed to have forgotten that he'd previously doubted Minato's sanity. "You damn well brought down one of the swordsmen in the middle of his own base! That's _fantastic_!"

"I got lucky," Minato said modestly.

"Whatever. Everyone to the beer tent!"

Even though Minato really wanted to do nothing more than crawl into bed and curl up for the rest of the week, he was not getting out of the celebrations so easily. It seemed that everyone wanted to buy him a beer that night and wouldn't let him out of their sight until he was so drunk he ended up climbing onto one of the tables and enacting the parts of the fight he remembered – and plenty of stuff he simply made up. Then he recalled dragging a once-more smitten Yoshi up with him, and kissing her in full view of everyone to raucous cheers and hoots, which was a much more pleasurable experience when your alcohol level was twice what was considered medically safe.

When he woke the next morning he was greeted by a splitting headache. Someone had made off with his shirt and written something unflattering about his penis upon his stomach in permanent marker. Yoshi was curled up in the crook of his arm blessed with a permanent moustache... but thankfully she was still clothed.

Mostly.

He didn't remember much of what had happened the previous night, except a lot of laughing and kissing and groping - of his backside - by many more hands than Yoshi's. If there were blanks in his memory, it was possibly because he'd passed out several times.

Right now he needed to wash the hangover out of his head, so he pushed himself up with a grunt and went in search of the shower stalls.

"You the man, Minato," someone said as he passed. They tried to high-five him, but Minato missed entirely and staggered on in search of cleanly salvation. Under the shower head, he brushed his teeth and washed his hair. He stole Shikaku's razor and managed to scrape off his persevering beard growth with almost no blood loss. As he washed, he noticed the lucky amulet still hanging around his neck. He smiled, despite his headache. Perhaps it had brought him luck, after all?

"Ahem?"

Minato glanced around and jumped. Yoshino – Shikaku's Yoshino, not his own Yoshi – was standing on the other side of the modesty screen. Although she was turned away and deliberately not looking at him, Minato still felt scandilised.

"What are you doing here? It's not the girl's hour yet," he said, diving for his towel.

"Actually it is," she said, looking at the sky. "But I don't want a shower, I need to talk to you."

Towel wrapped firmly around his waist, he went over to join her by the screen. Only then did she turn and face him. "What is it?" he asked.

"I just got word from the village," she informed him primly. "They want you to return there as soon as possible."

Minato's heart began to fall. "If this is because of what Shikaku said then-"

"No," Yoshino interrupted. "No, it's something else. They, ah... want you to claim a body."

"A body?" he repeated.

She consulted a note in her hand. "Someone called Ninomiya Mototsune... does that mean anything to you?"

Minato leant heavily on the screen. "Yeah," he said, feeling like air was suddenly a little too thin. "That's... that's my dad."

* * *

_Dear Hokage-sama,_

_It is my great pleasure to inform you that the resistance along the Water Isles has been absolutely and incontrovertibly crushed and Kiri forces have been driven back into the water country. The victory has been hard-won, but I do not believe it could have been possible without General Akuze's sudden death and the subsequent fear and disorganisation this inspired in the Kiri forces. For this, we must thank our prodigy, who has exceeded expectations. Without him, this war may have been lost._

_It is my impression that over the years he has become a formidable soldier, cunning in strategy and unflinching in execution. I do not believe anyone but this boy could have taken down Akuze, and now I hear reports of his growing legend in Kiri. He is being spoken of there as the 'Yellow Flash', and those who bear the mark of his jutsu are marked for death. It is more than we could have hoped for. _

_I still remain cautious of the plans you have for him; in my opinion he is growing arrogant and reckless and has begun to challenge authority in a way that may prove dangerous. But in all areas of consequence I believe he has proven himself to be a fit jonin, and I heartily endorse such a promotion in the near future. While our enemies spread his name and fear of his myth grows, I believe he will prove to be a valuable figurehead for this village. _

_As long as Namikaze lives he will be feared, and so will Konoha. _

_Yours loyally,_

_Shimura Danzou_

* * *

_TBC_


	10. Hometown Glory

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Ten: Hometown Glory

* * *

The same blue sky was hanging over Konoha as when he'd left. It seemed unusually bright, but that was most likely because he'd spent the last three years living on the mist covered shores of the continent where the sun only broke through the clouds a couple of hours for a few days at the height of summer. Minato had never realised how dry and warm the climate was in his native village. He felt like woodlouse who'd crawled out from beneath a rock.

"Sign in, please," said the bored looking guard at the gate.

Minato didn't remember this procedure, but he hefted his backpack onto one shoulder and accepted the clipboard he was handed. There were at least thirty other names signed under today's date, and he scanned them briefly, recognising a few and making a mental note to check up on them. As he signed his own name at the bottom, the gatekeeper's attitude suddenly changed.

"Namikaze Minato?" he read out, evidently very good at reading upside down. "We just got the news the other day – everyone'll be so excited to see you back. It's an honour!"

Minato looked at him stolidly. "What is?"

"Uh... to... meet the one who took down General Akuze. They say you won the war pretty much single-handedly."

"Not really," Minato said, because that was a horrible exaggeration. If he'd fought this war alone he would have died three years ago and Konoha would have been overrun by now. Akuze's death may have been a monumental victory, but the fighting in the following weeks had been more vicious and frantic than ever before, and it was only through daily waves of endless assaults that Kiri had been driven back into the water country. By no means did Minato want to take credit for something dozens of his friends had died fighting for.

It had been fun when he'd returned with Akuze's sword, to be toasted and cheered, but he hadn't really thought the hero worship would last. He hadn't thought he would have to endure it on the _other side of the country_.

"I heard you're being promoted – is that why you're back?"

"No," Minato said simply. "My father died."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

Minato smiled vaguely, always left bemused by people's immediate reaction to apologise to him as if his loss was their fault. He handed back the clipboard and went on his way, deciding to head home and drop off his supplies and equipment before even beginning to think about what to do next.

The first person he bumped into along the way was Ai's mother. She gave a cry of delight and hurried over to pinch his cheeks and remark about how tall and handsome he'd grown. She asked why her favourite customer hadn't stopped by the ice-cream parlour since his return, and he informed her that he hadn't even unpacked yet, to which she asked him how long he planned to stay. Minato told her he supposed it would be until after the funeral.

"Funeral?" she echoed, dismayed.

"My father," he said.

"Oh, Minato, I didn't know," she said, looking pitying. "I'm so sorry."

There it was again.

After promising he would stop by her parlour as soon as possible, he continued on his way home. On his street, his neighbours recognised him. Like Ai's mother they made exclamations about his height and then gave him sad smiles as they apologised about his father. They had all heard about it, perhaps well before he had, and they were past the stage of surprise and onto the stage of morbid curiosity. They asked him how it had happened. Minato didn't know.

He shook them off eventually and made it to his front door. It seemed smaller than he remembered. In fact everything looked smaller, except for the plants and the trees which had grown about as much as he had.

When Minato let himself into his own home, he wondered if he'd made a mistake, for he knew at once that this was where his father had died. He could smell it.

After killing more people than he could count and witnessing more bloated water-logged corpses than he'd ever needed to see, he knew what death smelled like. It was a stench that had lodged in the back of his throat a long time ago that would never truly leave him. It was there for good and that was the price you paid for a job like this. But stepping into this house... Minato was reminded immediately of the human abattoir in the Kiri outpost. The smell, the decay, the _flies..._

His shoulder hit the doorframe. Only then did he realise he was stumbling backwards, out of the house and down the steps.

It had been a mistake. He shouldn't have come here. Shouldn't have naively assumed walking in the door would be as easy as he remembered. He took his bags and he kept walking, away from his house and towards the heart of the village. He had no idea where he was going other than some pale realisation that he was retreading a beaten path he'd often taken when he was younger. It took him as far as the bridge where he'd so many afternoons throwing stones in the river with his friends.

He stopped and sat down on his backpack to watch the ripples of the water current, trying to think organise himself. He had to find accommodation; something cheap that wouldn't overtax his rather limited budget. Then he'd have to go down to the morgue... or visit the village undertaker, whichever dealt with whatever came next. Minato pressed his fingers into his eyes and rubbed. Then what did he do after that?

"Oh, look, I've found a little Yellow Flash."

Minato lifted his head and looked up. He very nearly recoiled when he met the yellow-eyed gaze of a face even more pasty than his own. Just what he needed. Running into Orochimaru on his first day back.

"Would you quit it?" Tsunade said, walking past them without pause. "Stop tormenting him, he's just a kid."

As scary as this woman was on the best of days, she wasn't nearly half as scary as the snake-man, so Minato quickly jumped to his feet and called out to her before she strode out of earshot. "Tsunade-sama – ah – if you're here, does that mean-"

"Jiraiya's not here, kid," she said, turning to him with a hand on her hip, and she certainly could fill a uniform better than most people.

"Then, where-"

"Still in the rain country," she interrupted. "Trust Jiraiya... the war ends and everyone's finally free to come home, but he can't resist that one last project."

"What?"

"Orphans," Orochimaru said with distaste. "He uncovered a couple of urchins and decided to stay behind to rear them. I hope you don't mind, but your sensei has new students now. I guess he was bored with the old ones."

"Stop it," Tsunade sighed, annoyed.

Orphans? Students? Why had Minato not heard about this? "When is he coming home?"

"Coming home? What makes you think he is?" Orochimaru smiled nastily and drifted on his way. Tsunade shot Minato a faintly annoyed look, as if her exasperation with her teammate was _his_ fault, before following after the slithery bastard.

Minato remained stiff in their wake, fiercely mixed feelings churning in his chest. Looking after orphans... that was pretty noble and kind-hearted and he wouldn't expect any less of Jiraiya-sensei. On the other hand, this was _his _sensei, and who knew how long such a detour would take him out of the village? Weeks? Months? _Years_?

He sagged down onto his backpack, head in his arms. If Jiraiya were here, he'd know what to do and say. He'd probably let Minato crash in his spare room for a few nights and help him sort through the pain of making funeral arrangements. But while he _should_ have been there, he was off building an orphanage.

He shouldn't be churlish. In all likeliness, the needs of orphans were greater than his own. He would have felt a whole lot better, however, if Jiraiya had been here waiting for him.

A new shadow fell over him, one cast by an umbrella judging by its shape on the ground. Two feet in black plimsolls stepped into view beneath his arms. Someone with very neat ankles was leaning over him.

"You alright?" the girl asked.

And Minato, very used to being approached by strange girls and for whom the novelty had worn off long ago, sighed and said heavily, "I'm fine."

Really, who would put up an umbrella on such a wonderfully sunny day?

Scorched, the plimsolls took a step back, then they continued on their way. Minato lifted his chin to watch her, surprised that she'd given up so quickly. Had his tone been too harsh? Besides, she looked a little strange, all dressed in black with a black umbrella over one shoulder. As such he couldn't see her head, but he doubted he knew anyone as weird as that anyway.

* * *

"Minato! It's you, it's really you!"

Konoha's newly styled Yellow Flash turned only just in time to catch the girl that might have bulldozed anyone with slightly poorer reflexes into the wall behind him. He couldn't rule out the possibility that this was what Ai had been trying to do, but she seemed so happy to see him that he could quite easily forget all those years of passive abuse he'd suffered at her hands. He smiled back and accepted her enormous bear hug.

"Mom said you were back!" she told him, pulling away enough to let him see that she wasn't alone. The old gang was here too, giving him more restrained gestures of welcome that were no less pleased. There was Yamanaka Inoichi, looking taller and far more solid around the jaw than he remembered. Akimichi Chouza was twice as large in all directions, while Saburou had managed to grow longer and thinner but still retain his round-face that had always made him look almost as heavy as Chouza. Some others were there too – Chichi, Aburame Shibi, Inuzuka Tsume and a couple of faces he had either never seen or didn't recall.

The change in Ai struck him as most stark, however. When he had left, she'd easily been the tallest in their team (save for Jiraiya) but now she barely came up to his shoulder. Had she shrunk? Or had he really grown that much? She was still thin, though, so much so that she felt like a fragile bird in his arms.

"_You've_ been making quite a name for yourself," she remarked.

"Did you just sneak back into town?" Inoichi asked. "I was so sure the only way you would be returning would be on the back of a bejewelled elephant, surrounded by a marching parade of glittering swans and a brass band."

"Not quite," Minato admitted with a wry grin.

"What _are_ you doing back?" Inoichi scrutinised him. "I didn't think they were pulling people out yet. Is Shikaku with you?"

"Shikaku's still at the border," Minato said, looking around uneasily at all the people around him. He didn't really want to tell share the reason for his return with something that resembled and audience. "I'm... just here to take care of some stuff."

"His dad died," Ai said, who must have heard it from her mother.

Minato looked at her flatly, trying hard to keep the sudden surge of dislike for her showing on his face.

"Sorry to hear that, man," Inoichi murmured like everyone else. "Was it in the war?"

"Mm, no," Minato said awkwardly, looking for a change of subject. "How've you guys been while I was gone? Tell me what's been happening."

This was a much more pleasant topic for everyone, and as Minato made his way further into town in the general direction of the inns and travel lodges, his old friends accompanied him, exuberantly updating him on the latest of everyone relevant. Quite a lot seemed to have happened and no one was quite the same as he remembered.

Though he had to admit... he had not thought about his friends much since leaving three years ago.

"-so then we were all banned from the Izakaya, which I still maintain was an overreaction. The stains would have come out with a little lemon juice." Inoichi finished, and leaned towards Minato as they walked. "But the important question is, what's been happening to _you_, Minato?"

"Mm?"

"I heard you went to a brothel," said Chouza.

"Nearly got killed by a prostitute," agreed Chichi.

"I heard it was a male prostitute," Ai mused.

"And what about this General Akuze business?" Inoichi demanded.

"How the hell did you manage to kill one of the Seven Swordsmen?" Tsume spluttered.

Minato stopped and looked around at the eager faces looking back at him. A lot of questions had been fired just now, and he didn't really desire to answer any of them. Since he didn't really have a choice, he went with the safest bet. "I stabbed him."

"The prostitute or General Akuze?" Inoichi pressed.

"Uh – Akuze."

This was met with jeers of disbelief.

"No one just walks into a Kiri stronghold and stabs a Swordsman," Ai said contemptuously.

"It was a little more complicated than that," Minato told her.

"But it's true though, right? You did kill him? That's why everyone's calling you the Yellow Flash now like you're some kind of legendary nin?" Inoichi asked.

Minato just nodded.

"Bloody hell..." he whispered.

"Akuze was the strongest in his village – probably stronger than the Mizukage, even," Chichi said. "Does this mean... Minato's about on the same level as a kage?"

They all looked at each other, and then back at him with a quivering kind of awe. Minato didn't like it. The way people had looked at him ever since defeating Akuze always made him uneasy, especially when they were people he had thought considered him as just another peer even if he was especially talented.

"So, ah, since you were banned from the Izakaya, what do you guys do for fun around here?" he asked them, hoping to shake some of that creepy reverence out of their expressions.

"We mostly throw stones at little children and genin," Inoichi said.

"Right..." Minato nodded again. "Anything else to do?"

A strange leer spread over Inoichi's face. "Well, there's always Uzumaki."

"Oh, grow up," Ai snapped.

"Don't be disgusting," Chichi sneered.

"Men," intoned Tsume flatly.

Everyone else, who were men, just smirked.

Minato didn't get it. "I don't get it." Was this some kind of new teasing they'd devised? Minato had hoped that after three years people like Inoichi would eventually get bored of bullying Kushina.

"What's to get?" Inoichi shrugged.

"Just watch what you say," Chouza warned his teammate. "Sarutobi would slug you for that."

"The Hokage?" Minato's eyes widened. He found it hard to imagine the old man slugging anyone.

"No, his nephew," said Inoichi.

The Hokage's nephew? Why did that sound familiar?

"Forget Sarutobi," Chouza said. "_Kushina _would kill you."

"You're joking. She wouldn't hurt a fly," Inoichi scoffed. "You know she was on the Waterfall border for a year but she never once killed anyone. All this tough talk from her is completely empty."

"Was she in a supplementary unit?" Minato asked, confused.

"No, that's the thing. She was out on the battlefield, same as anyone else, but her unit claims she never killed anyone."

Ai made a derisive sound. "Weakling."

"I like it," Inoichi said, looking to the sky. "She descends like an angel of mercy – perfectly savage and able to take your life – but she _chooses_ not to because inside she is pure goodness. No wonder Waterfall surrendered so quickly and she won the heart of her captain. Everywhere she goes, people fall to her feet, begging forgiveness and permission to bask in her beauty for just a few moments."

Minato stared at him. "What?"

"Ignore him," Chouza grunted, shaking his head. "He's an idiot."

"I'm serious!" Inoichi protested.

"Give it up, Inoichi. You're up against a jonin captain who's related to the Hokage and she doesn't even _like_ you, so what hope do you have?" his teammate shook his head. "Give it up."

"Can we talk about something _other_ than Kushina, for once," Ai growled. This was clearly something she was frequently frustrated by.

"You're just jealous because she actually has tits," Inoichi said cruelly.

Before Ai could explode, Minato pointed out, "You used to tease Kushina about that."

Inoichi put a hand over his heart. "Youthful idiocy, my friend. I was blind but now I see what you saw in her."

Minato was still nonplussed. All he'd seen in Kushina was her supreme awkwardness and her grubby, knobbly knees. He'd liked her all the same, but he didn't understand if it was a new form of abuse Inoichi was trying out by singing her wildly exaggerated praises or genuine adoration.

"Why don't you just ask her out?" Chichi asked.

"One does not _date_ the angel of mercy!" Inoichi despaired. "You worship her from afar... and occasionally grope her from behind."

Minato sucked in a breath. "If you've been harassing, Kushina, I'll-" he cut himself off.

Everyone held their breath. Inoichi looked a little worried. "You'll... what?"

"I think I'll get quite angry," Minato said honestly.

"Make that a jonin captain _and_ the Yellow Flash," Chouza muttered. "No chance, Inoichi."

Inoichi pouted. "That's not fair, Minato's totally asexual. Isn't that right, Minato? Kushina's just your beard? Right? You're not actually interested in her, are you?"

Minato smiled slightly and shook his head. "You'd have to be pretty touched in the head to be interested in Kushina," he said, enjoying Inoichi's spluttered denial.

"I dare you to say that to Sarutobi's face," he said.

"Who is Sarutobi?" Minato asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. "What is he to Kushina?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Inoichi said, and suddenly began waving at something – someone – behind Minato. "Hey! Kushina! My darling, over here!"

Minato turned quickly, and wondered why his heart had decided to beat so hard at the thought he was moments away from seeing Kushina again. He searched the crowds of early afternoon shoppers, waiting to see that short, red-haired girl in the grubby culottes and over-large sweater appear. She always stood out like a sore thumb. But this time as he hunted the rows of market stalls, he saw no one familiar.

"Hey, she's ignoring me," Inoichi sighed, lowering his hand.

"Why wouldn't she?" Chichi rebuked.

Just where _were_ they looking? They all seemed to be able to see her, but no matter how many times Minato's eyes darted between them and the crowds, trying to follow their gaze, all he saw was a mass of strangers.

"Oi, Uzumaki!" Inoichi shouted to the apparently invisible girl. "Look who finally decided to come home from the war!"

Someone turned and detached from the herd. So she'd been browsing that flower stall all along? Minato's mouth went a little dry, as it usually did when he anticipated one of Danzou's horrible protracted lectures. He didn't know why he should react that way, as if all his insides were threatening to turn to liquid. It was only Kushina; someone he knew better than most people alive, and she wasn't scary.

Except he didn't know the girl coming towards them. Not in the slightest.

Where was his grubby faced urchin? The one who was perpetually smudged with dirt and sweat and refused to make the acquaintance of a hairbrush? The one who wiped her nose on her sleeves? The one who wore the same worn clothes every day for two weeks before she _might_ consent to washing them? The one with the frightening stare?

The girl coming toward them only resembled her in the vaguest possible sense. Her clothes were clean for a start, and sleek and black. She wore leggings and a plain black sheaf dress that left her arms bare and – surprisingly shapely, he'd never noticed that before. The hair that had last been forming a rough hewn mane somewhere around her chin now fell in poker-straight lines down past her shoulders, though most of it seemed to be heaped up in a bun behind her. Remarkably, her face was spotless. Not a speck of dirt to be seen anyway. Her complexion was about as close to perfection as some girls vied for, though this might have been because on a brilliantly hot, sunny day, she'd had the foresight to bring an umbrella to protect her fair, perfect skin.

Ah. Now he knew why she was scowling at him in that manner that was perhaps the only familiar thing about her.

"It's the Yellow Flasher, isn't it?" she said, stopping a few metres away.

Some of those behind him actually had the nerve to giggle, though for once it was not at Kushina's expense.

It was his own.

"You must spare him your brutal wit, Uzumaki," Inoichi scolded her. "Minato can slay a man a hundred different ways, but he is a sensitive soul, easily fooled and easily injured."

Minato opened his mouth to deny that, but Kushina cut across him.

"Easily fooled and easily injured sounds quite like a lot of other people I know," she said, glaring at Inoichi, who coloured.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"She probably means that time you tried to stick certain parts of your body through her letterbox," Chouza reminded him.

"Inoichi!" Minato gasped. He was very close to making good on his threat to get angry.

"Good thing he got the wrong house," Chouza added.

Inoichi leapt for a diversion. "Uh - what lovely lupins you have there, Uzumaki!" he cried, gesturing to the bunch of cream-coloured flowers in Kushina's hand that, as far as Minato was concerned, looked like any other flower. "You should have asked me before you bought them – Hana gives me a special discount, you know."

"If Hana thought you were buying flowers for another girl, that discount would disappear pretty quick," Ai retorted.

"I can pay for my own flowers, thank you," Kushina said sharply, which in itself surprised Minato. When he'd left, she could barely afford her own food. To think she had spare money on frivolities like 'lupins'...?

"You look like you're in mourning with that get-up," Inoichi said, gesturing to her flowers and her black clothes. Minato took it as a sign that she at least didn't normally dress like this.

"I am," she answered, twirling the umbrella in a slow circle behind her. "Mikoto is getting married to Fugu-face. Despite my best efforts they plan to tie the knot and have threatened to ban me from the ceremony."

"Another one bites the dust, eh, Uzumaki?" Inoichi said, looking like he was trying hard to suppress laughter.

She glared at him. "You wouldn't understand. I've lost my best friend to a puffer fish."

"Ah! Well, then Minato is your man!" Inoichi clapped his hand on said boy's back. "He is a world renowned slayer of puffer-fish, aren't you?"

Minato opened his mouth-

"I'll be fine, thank you," she said shortly. "If that's all you wanted, I have things to get done today-"

"No, wait, Uzumaki," Inoichi called, making her pause. "I've been meaning to ask..."

She waited.

"Spit or swallow?"

As laughter exploded behind him, Minato felt the limit of his temper edging closer again. By then he thought he understood the answer to whether or not Inoichi abhorred Kushina or adored her; it was a little of both.

Kushina didn't seem surprised. "I _bite," _she snapped, and promptly turned – very nearly knocking everyone's eyes out with her umbrella – and stormed away.

"I'll be sure to give Sarutobi my sympathies the next time I see him!" Inoichi crowed after her, much to Ai's newfound amusement.

"That wasn't funny," Minato said, suddenly angry that he was watching his former best friend walk away, and that they had managed to meet and not say a single word to one another. His other friends were to blame for that.

"It's just a bit of fun, Minato," Inoichi said.

"For _you,"_ he pointed out. "I thought you might have matured a little in the last couple of years but you're just the same, making fun of someone because you can't handle the fact you fancy her."

"Ah – what?!" Inoichi was shocked speechless for once. "It's just a joke, man, I don't really fancy-"

"And you can stop laughing," Minato said to Ai, who immediately stopped. "You could have grown out of your petty prejudices, but you've clung to them instead for no reason I can see. You haven't changed at all."

"_You_ have," she retorted, face white with anger. "Since when did you become an arrogant jerk who felt entitled to pass judgement on people?"

Minato ignored her, instead looking to Chouza.

Chouza noticed this and immediately threw up his hands. "Hey, I _like_ Kushina," he said quickly. "Don't shout at me."

"I'm not shouting..." Minato frowned and shifted the shoulder strap of his bag. "I'm just saying. I didn't expect this from you guys."

"Oh, go screw yourself, you jumped up _bastard_," Ai said savagely, and stormed away in the opposite direction from Kushina.

Minato half wondered if she'd meant that as a general insult, or had chosen it very specifically. Either way he wasn't hurt, and he turned away. "I'll see you later, guys," he said, heading off quickly in pursuit of Kushina.

"See ya," Inoichi drawled unenthusiastically after him.

Now that he knew Kushina was the one with the umbrella, she was very easy to spot cutting through the crowds in the distance. Minato wove his way quickly up the busy street, dodging elbows and the occasional cabbage thrust at his face by overzealous sellers. He caught up with her at the crest of the hill and drew up alongside her, wary of the sharp spokes in her umbrella. She looked at him, unsurprised, but she wasn't scowling anymore at least.

"You were on the bridge this morning," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yes, and a right rude idiot you were. I didn't think it could possibly be _you_." She tapped the flowers against her mouth. It was the same mouth as he remembered, but those lips seemed fuller. Prettier. She seemed to know how to purse them just right to draw his attention. She noticed him staring and frowned.

"You look... great!" he gushed helplessly.

She looked back blankly. At least her propensity to never trust a compliment was still intact. "You look... well-travelled," she responded diplomatically.

"I stink, I know," he sighed. "But you... are you wearing perfume?"

She coughed. "It's Mikoto's," she said quickly. "She squirts it on me before I can run out the door, I can't help it."

The lady protested too much, Minato thought. He didn't mind if Kushina liked to wear perfume, though it further contradicted his memory of a child who scorned any other girl who so much as looked at a bottle of deodorant. Something else about her comment caught his attention, however. "Are you living with Mikoto?"

She nodded.

"So you moved out of the centre?"

"They can't keep you forever," she told him. "Me and Mikoto shared rent on a new place because she didn't want to stay in the Uchiha compound. She'll be moving back there once she marries though..."

"You guys are getting along pretty well then?"

"She's my best friend," Kushina repeated.

They lapsed into silence as they walked. Perhaps like him she was remembering a time when they had considered each other best friends? Or perhaps she was too busy fretting about the wedding?

As they moved down a street dominated by tall buildings, shadows fell heavily across the street. Kushina closed her umbrella and tapped it against the ground beside her as she walked. Every now and then they passed a gap in the buildings and a shaft of sunlight would hit her hair. Minato was fascinated. He had never seen so many shades of red in his life.

But eventually he had to ask the pressing question. "Where are we going?"

"I'm going home to put these in water," she said pointedly. "I don't know where you're going."

She wasn't inviting him along.

"Uh... I don't know where I'm going either," he admitted.

"Have you even been home yet?" she asked.

He shook his head hesitantly, not wanting to admit he'd been and gone, too afraid by spectres to stay.

"You should go home then," she said. "Take a shower, talk to your father and stuff. He got pretty lonely while you away. He says you never wrote."

Minato stopped. Her words had chased the air out of his lungs and left him as if he was standing in the doorway of his home again. Kushina spoke so casually of his father, as if he was still alive, which couldn't have cut through him more effectively to remind Minato that he _was not._ He swallowed hard, wondering if there was a wall nearby he could lean against to collect himself.

Kushina looked at him curiously. "What's the matter?"

"You... you talked to my father?"

"A few times, yes," she said.

"Did he throw anything at you?"

"No," she said shaking her head. "Look, maybe I should walk you home? You don't look very well."

"I'm fine," he said quickly, in very much the same tone he'd used on the bridge earlier that had made her recoil. This time she looked at him with a faint frown.

"I'll walk you home-"

"I'm not going home," he told her. "I planned to just rent a room a couple of days. I won't be staying here long."

Her frown deepened ever so slightly. "Ok... where are you staying?"

"I don't know yet."

"What's your budget?"

He scrounged around in his pocket and produced a couple of coins. He looked at Kushina, awaiting her judgement, since he suspected she knew more about the value of money than he did after spending three years out on the border where the most highly prized commodity was fabric softener.

"This is it?" she pointed to his small change. "This won't get you very far. Where's the rest?"

He shrugged.

"I'm _not_ lending you money," she warned.

"Wasn't going to ask," he said defensively. The last person he'd attempt to scrounge money from was Kushina. "I have more but..."

"But?"

"It's at home." And he felt cold just thinking of that house.

"Then you better run home and get it," she said expectantly, waiting for him to do just that.

He stayed fixed in place.

Kushina tapped her umbrella against the cobbled street. "You don't want to go home, do you?"

Rather than admit it by shaking his head, he just frowned at himself and his own silly weakness.

"I can go get it for you, if you like," she said. "I'm sure you're father won't mind."

"No, no," he said quickly, wincing. "I'm a big boy, I can do it."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He thought about it for a long moment. He didn't really want to take her to that place, but he didn't really want to say goodbye just yet either. Also, she seemed to sense that he needed the moral support. He knew it too, so he nodded his ascent and she fell into step beside him as they started on their way back towards Minato's house.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"I'm sure you'd do the same for me," she said, a little impersonally, as if he was nothing more than a casual acquaintance to whom could be granted the occasional favour. He supposed that, these days, that's what they really were to each other. He was unfamiliar with the girl next to him. She had been to war, she had moved into a new place with a friend, and appeared to have a boyfriend he knew nothing about. What she thought about these things – what she thought of _Minato –_ was a mystery to him.

Out in the sunlight, she drew up her umbrella again.

"I burn easily," she said to him when he stared quizzically.

"Ah," he said, turning his face to the sky. "I just go as brown as a berry."

"Are berries brown?" she asked.

"Some are, I guess."

"You don't look very brown right now," she said, peering at him. "I think you'll burn too, if you're not careful."

"Maybe I can share your umbrella?" he joked

"I don't think so." She looked away to examine the passing houses.

Her manner had always been a little cool, but he didn't remember her being this standoffish with him. "Are you mad at me?" he asked uncertainly. "Is it because of what I said on the bridge – I'm sorry if I was rude-"

"It's not that," she interrupted, sighing. "I'm just... not sure about you yet."

"What?"

"Nothing, never mind." She shook her head, shaking loose a few brilliant strands of hair from her bun. "Let's just get your money."

Minato didn't know what to make of that. She probably just needed time to get used to him again, since she had always been slow to make friends, and maybe reaffirming an old friendship would need just as much careful treading. If she was the anything like the old Kushina, one wrong move could easily chase her away for good.

"Here we are," she said, as they approached the very house Minato had fled from not so long ago. She knew where he lived then. Did this mean she had actually visited his father in the past?

"Can you... wait here while I go get it?" he asked. There was a smell in that house that he didn't want to explain... one that he didn't want her to know.

Kushina twirled her umbrella behind her and nodded. She was amenable at least.

Minato heaved a deep breath and walked down the garden path towards his own front door. He hadn't locked it on his way out, so he pushed it open once more and stepped inside.

The smell threatened to make him gag, but he forced himself to breathe and stay calm. It was far easier to keep a level head when there was someone outside to witness if he tried to disgrace himself by running away again. He just had to get the money and then get out. It would only take a few moments and he knew exactly where his father had kept his money box.

He ran upstairs and into his father's bedroom. It was exactly as he remembered, as if his father had slept it in only last night. This hurt to think about, so he quickly dropped to his knees and began hunting around under the bed for the box he knew should have been there. The existence of this box was the reason he'd been able to feed and clothe himself for most of his young life.

But it was not there.

"It's a lot bigger on the inside than it is on the outside!"

That sounded like Kushina, coming from _within _the house.

Minato raced out of the room to lean over the banister. Kushina was standing in the hall below, leaning forward to look into the kitchen. "You're supposed to be waiting outside!" he protested.

"Is there a reason why I can't come in?" she asked, and right then he knew he should have expected her to disobey. Once upon a time, she may have stood outside and argued with him until he let her inside or until he locked the door on her. Grown up Kushina apparently just nodded and smiled and then did what she wanted anyway. She'd grown a lot sneakier.

"I-I'm sorry about the smell," he said awkwardly.

"What smell?" she peered around. "Where's your father? Is he at work?"

He couldn't answer that, not honestly. He pushed away from the banister and, out of ancient habit, went to his room. Not much had changed here either except that it had acquired the musty stink of dust and disuse. Everything else was exactly as he had left it three years ago, and he was possibly the only person to have stepped into it since then.

The bed creaked stiffly as he sat down on it, reminding him that this was the comfort he'd sort when he'd spent one too many nights sleeping on a hard, lumpy bedroll in the middle of a marsh. This room was, in a way, like Danzou's tent; full of indulgence and opulence that had been taken for granted by its owner.

The squeaking floorboards on the stairs gave away Kushina as she climbed them. He heard her outside his door.

"Don't come in," he said, though he might as well have not bothered. She appeared in the doorway and looked around.

"This is your room?" she asked, staring with bold interest at his belongings. Despite asking her not to enter, she did just that. "There's a lot of pink."

It had come with the house. His parents had never redecorated it when they'd moved in, but it felt so tiresome to explain why the walls were adorned with murals of pastel coloured fairies. "I like pink," he said indifferently.

"Oh."

She came into the room, an interminable snoop. She looked around at his shelves and his chest of drawers, then spotted something familiar resting next to his pillow. "I'm met him before," she said, bending down to pick it up. "Mr Nose. Your anteater, isn't it?"

"Elephant," he corrected half-heartedly.

Kushina sat down on the bed beside him, making it bounce, and placed Mr Nose on his shoulder to tickle his cheek with the fuzzy trunk. "What's wrong?" she asked, for she evidently was not blind, and Minato was staring into space as if he'd just realised he'd been in a god-awful war.

He took Mr Nose off his shoulder and held him, between his knees, examining the toy that seemed so much smaller in his hands than before. He'd once doted on this bean-filled scrap of cloth. But, like many things in this village, he'd simply not thought about him for years.

He had thought about his father even less.

"Why should I have written to him?" he asked aloud.

Kushina tilted her head quizzically. That was new. Normally she just grunted 'what?' when she was confused. When and where had she picked up this mannerism?

"My father," Minato said. "He never wrote to me, why should I have written to him?"

She shrugged, not knowing the answer.

"And what would we talk about? 'Hey, remember that time you got drunk and locked me out of the house for two days?' Did he tell you about that? All my father ever did was throw things and mope over a stupid old picture of my mother. How could he ever expect me to bother about him?"

Kushina considered this quietly.

"He wasn't even my father," Minato said, and he felt physically sick for giving voice to a truth he'd never openly acknowledged before, even though it was a secret known to anyone who was at all moderately informed. "My father could be one of any number of men in or out of this village, but the man I lived with was not him."

Something about his choice of the past-tense made Kushina narrow her eyes in confusion. "Minato," she said softly. "Where _is_ your dad?"

"He's gone," he said evenly. "He died."

Kushina looked at him sharply, and he knew what was coming: the soothing, soft platitudes of meaningless apology. He'd heard them all, and he'd said a few in his time. He remembered years ago when Kushina had written to tell him about the death of her sensei's wife and the breakdown of said sensei, and all he could think of to say were the same things everyone said. He wouldn't begrudge her now for parroting the usual lines.

"Do you want to cry?" she asked.

"No," said Minato quickly, suddenly worried he was about to.

"Do you want me to go?"

He swallowed. "No. It's ok."

He carried on staring morosely at the spots where Mr Nose's eyes used to be, until he felt the soft cool touch of Kushina's fingers cautiously touching the back of his hand. She was awkward, like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to touch him, and she settled for curling her finger lightly around three of his. Remarkably, all he could think of was her nails. He remembered them once being blunt and short and always caked in dirt; these days they were carefully filed to practical tips that were white and pink and as clean as the rest of her.

Hesitantly, he curled his fingers round hers. Her hand felt much smaller than he remembered too.

"You've changed," he said quietly.

She was also looking at their joined hands. "Not as much as you."

"Is that bad?" he wondered, because she didn't sound as happy as he felt when he realised how much she'd grown up.

"I'm not sure yet," she answered with a serious frown, "Even when you're not here, people talked a lot about you, and I heard some things... but I'm glad you're here now. I'm just sorry that the only thing that could drag you back to us was something like this."

"I'm glad you're here too," he said slowly. "I don't really want to be alone right now."

Her fingers shyly squeezed his a little harder, and when he glanced up at her he saw she'd turned a fetching red and her eyes were glazed with the threat of tears. "I'm sorry about your dad," she whispered.

And there it was.

This time, however, Minato smiled gratefully, because he knew that Kushina was the one person who truly meant it.

* * *

TBC


	11. A Wedding and A Funeral

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Eleven: A Wedding and a Funeral

* * *

Minato wasn't sure how he could have gotten through the next few days without Kushina, and this was perhaps the difference in her that left him most in awe.

Although she offered to let him sleep over at her place initially, Minato sensed the reluctance in her voice and decided not to foist himself on her inconveniently. He guessed she wasn't perfectly at ease around him yet, but once it was decided that he would be renting a room out, she showed herself up to be the human incarnation of organisation. She counted the funds from his father's money box after he'd eventually pulled it out from a cupboard, and had taken him straight to a pub which offered rented rooms that would suit his economic needs perfectly, balancing maximum comfort with affordability. When Minato asked just how she'd come to be so well versed with Konoha's temporary accommodation, she admitted to him that after she'd left the social centre, she had bounced around between hotels and inns for quite a few months before she'd come to an arrangement with Mikoto.

And when Minato had told her that he wasn't sure where he was supposed to start making arrangements for his father, she told him it was not as complicated as he probably thought, and then proceeded to give him the run-down of a set of complicated tasks, most of which he forgot by the time she got to the bottom of the list. He was quite glad she stayed with him to search his house for the will, and was there to drag him off to the village undertaker. Minato mostly stood back and let her wrangle the details out and argue the price of a ceremony with simple trimmings down to something that his money box would cover. If ever the undertaker suspected he was being out-manoeuvred and tried to talk the price back up, Kushina just angry pointed back at Minato and said, "Does he look like he's made of money to you?" before reminding him that Minato was a village hero who had taken down one of the seven swordsman. Although, Minato didn't know if she was telling him this to impress him or implying some kind of threat.

Minato wondered where this confidence in her had come from. He could guess that she had been involved with other funerals, especially if her sensei had not been very together after his wife's death, as her letters had inferred. This forthrightness astonished him. She had always been a little like that, but Minato could see that she could take care of herself better than people three times her age could. Having lost her parents and spent so much time alone, maybe it was a matter of necessity to be so devastatingly competent, because although Minato had managed without his parents all his life, he had always had people to rely on – his sensei, his adoring academy teachers, his adoring friends, his smitten (though sometimes murderous) commanding officers. They told him what to do, where to go, did him favours, offered him food and money and a place to sleep when he had none. He knew that once again he was relying on Kushina the same way he relied on them.

He envied her a little, that she'd learned how to cope with life while he'd grown up on the edge of the world, hiding from it.

Outside the undertaker's office, she handed all the paperwork to him, as if he had even the faintest idea of what it all meant. "That's that," she said with finality. "Remember, the funeral will be the day after tomorrow at ten. You may want to talk to an administrator at the Hokage tower about the will. Looks like your dad didn't update it after you were born, and he's left everything to some distant nephew or whatever. I don't know if you can do anything about that, but maybe there's some legal loophole that will allow you to keep _something_. Oh, and go to the bank. I saw some statements at your house for an account in your name, so your dad kept some savings aside for you at least, probably from all your missions and your military wages."

"Right." Minato thought he should be writing this down on his hand. All he could really think about was the ceremony in two days time. "Are you... going to come?"

She looked at him evenly. "I shouldn't impose."

"No – you won't," he said quickly. "It's just that I don't think my dad really had many friends – or _any_ friends. So... I'm worried I'll be the only one there."

She tilted her head to side, disbelieving. "Minato, you're the Yellow Flasher-"

"Flash."

"-yes, so, um, I'd be surprised if half the village didn't turn up just for you," she pointed out.

"Ok," he nodded. "But you'll be in that half, right?"

She looked away. "If you want."

"Thank you," he said, and she only looked embarrassed.

"I have stuff to do," Kushina said, edging away from him. The lupins she'd bought were beginning to wilt a little and he realised he'd already taken up most of her day. "I'll see you around, ok?"

He waved as she left, and this was when he noticed even her gait had changed. There was still a little bit of the tomboyish strut to her walk, but it was thrown off somewhat by the side-to-side tilting of her curved hips. If Minato was honest with himself, he would have realised he was just admiring Kushina's rather lovely backside with the natural enthusiasm of any young man for an attractive young woman; but he was not honest, and so told himself that he was just impersonally analysing her strength and balance. She was probably an excellent fighter these days, he said to himself.

He smiled and headed back towards his designated pub, wondering if Kushina was aware of just how much she'd changed. There was a story he'd once heard about an ugly duckling who, in the manner of most fairytales, had the last laugh against his tormentors when he inevitably became beautiful – which was all that ever seemed to matter in such stories. Unfortunately, the simple idealism that formed these moral tales did not inform reality. Kushina was still a little odd, and not at all easy to approach even for someone like him, and a perfect complexion had not made Inoichi respect her any more or caused Ai to hate her any less.

Still... she looked well. Somehow, at some point, she had found a reason to take pride in herself and stop hiding beneath dirt and unwashed overalls, and so Minato was happy for her. He just wondered what had caused her to change so much...

Or _who_?

* * *

Until the funeral, Minato wasn't sure what to do with himself. He wandered like a distracted cat around the village, reacquainted himself with people and places he'd almost forgotten, occasionally remembering to carry out the little errands Kushina had set him. The administrators in the Hokage tower were no help. His father's will was absolute; he'd left Minato nothing, not even the house.

After living in a crowded tent for three years, Minato didn't think he cared and tried not to think too hard about why his father had never updated his will to include Minato. Had it just been laziness, or a deliberate snub to a child he must always have known was not his? Did it matter anyway? He was not used to possessing much, and the thought of inheriting any kind of property was overwhelming – he would only need Kushina to come round and tell him what to do with it anyway. So with nary a shrug, he let the matter go. Whatever his father's reasons, he would be taking them to the grave.

This done, he dutifully visited the ice cream parlour belonging to Ai's mother, who gave him a 100% discount on the spot. She said he was too thin and needed feeding up, and he helped himself to three bowls of syrup slavered sorbet before she was satisfied enough to let him go. He _did_ feel better though, as she had promised. After that, he went to the bookstore. He wasn't a big reader, but he'd seen Jiraiya's name in the shop window and an ache of longing had filled him like a kind of grief he could not feel for his father, compelling him into the store to pick up a copy of his sensei's debut novel.

At night he returned once more to his extremely comfortable room behind the pub, lit a fire in the hearth to remind himself of the smoky campfires out on the border, and curled up in bed to read _Icha Icha Delight._

He put it down after three pages, face burning hotter than the fire.

It was probably not decent to read such things the night before you buried your father.

The next morning, he went down to the cemetery wearing his uniform sans its green vest – for he didn't own anything else appropriate. He headed to the family tomb where the service would be held and his father's ashes would be placed beside those of his wife and his parents. One day Minato guessed he would end up in the same place, though the only person he was really related to was his mother. He had no idea where her parents lay, or their parents. His family tree started with his mother only, and in ninja circles where the elite clans could trace their ancestors back to the feudal age, this was a very meagre lineage indeed.

At the tomb, he arrived to quite the surprise. When Kushina had said half the village would come to pay their respects, she'd been wrong of course, but thirty people was still more than he had ever expected, and as he stood there and waited, more still arrived.

There was Inoichi, looking unusually sombre and humble when he greeted Minato. Ai's mother, who apologised haltingly that her daughter couldn't make it. Chichi and Chouza, a couple of the Hyuuga and Uchiha, and several more people he hadn't seen since the academy – people who couldn't possibly know who his father was, but had come all the same for Minato if no one else. He felt a little uncomfortable, looking around at so many faces he either didn't know or couldn't remember, until a shimmer of red caught his eye and his heart warmed, because Kushina was there.

She was standing on the other side of the tomb in the same black clothes he'd last seen her in, standing with a very lovely dark-haired girl. It took Minato a moment to recognise Mikoto, although what he noticed first was her uncanny similarity to Kushina – in both the style of her hair and the clothes she wore. This, he supposed, solved the mystery of who had been teaching Kushina about fashion and personal hygiene. They were evidently very close friends, but at that moment, neither girl was speaking to one another and Mikoto was standing far more closely to a tall dark-haired man. Her fiancé? Minato couldn't remember the guy's name, but with that thin and slightly angry face, he looked nothing like the nickname of 'puffer-fish' that Kushina had given him.

So while one friend was standing with her man, Kushina in turn was standing a little closer to someone else too. Once more, it took Minato a moment too long to recognise him, though he would have been forgiven, for Hatake Sakumo had changed a lot in three years, and perhaps the only reason Minato recognised him at all was because of a small white-haired child swinging on his arm in boredom. He'd heard a lot about that little boy, and he really did look like his father. Sakumo, however, had begun to resemble a much older man…

Once the ceremony began, it was swift and brief. Everyone stood around, looking sombre, or placing flowers respectfully around the tomb as the ashes were placed inside it. All that was left of his father now fit into that little urn. Minato had had plenty of time to decide how he would feel at this moment, but he still wasn't sure what the tightness in his chest meant. Sorrow? Anxiety? Relief? Guilt?

He kept looking up, away from his father's grave to Kushina. In this grim little cemetery where everyone came dressed in every shade between black and grey, she was a little dazzling, standing there with her vivid red hair and her rosy cheeks. The expression on her face captivated him far more than it should. Were those upturned eyebrows and downturned mouth because she felt sorrow over his father? Or because she was standing so close to her friend's fiancé who she detested? Or because she was concerned about the boy standing between her and her sensei who was beginning to ask loud, impertinent questions about what was going on.

He looked away from her, unsettled that he could spend more time gazing at his old friend than he could keep his mind on his father. But to be fair, he wasn't the only one. His gaze wandered across to Inoichi who was also staring in Kushina's direction and sighing imperceptibly. The boy really was too obvious.

As the ceremony closed, Minato felt indescribably weary. This wasn't the most physically taxing thing he'd ever done in his life, and all the same, he knew he would have liked to do nothing but crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the day away. But while there were countless people here all wishing to tell him how sorry they were and how they imagined how proud his father would be of him today, there would be no chance of sneaking off. He smiled at his well-wishers and bore it admirably until he found himself faced quite unexpectedly with Mikoto.

"Hello, you," she smiled sweetly. "It's been a long time!"

"Hello Mikoto," he said, smiling back a little more genuinely. "You look great."

"Ha – and you've grown so tall!" she exclaimed. "I feel a little nervous, actually. Speaking to a living legend like this."

"Nah… I've just had some lucky scrapes, that's all," he said. "How've you been? I heard you were living with Kushina now."

"Yes – although not for much longer. I'm getting married soon."

"I heard about that. To Fugu… Fugu… um.."

"Fugaku," she supplied quickly. "Yes."

"Already? I thought you'd wait until you were older… sixteen seems a little young."

She shrugged. "I'm old enough, so why put it off?" she reasoned, though her smile was a little more subdued. Minato searched the crowd and saw her fiancé standing quite a way off, talking to someone else.

"Are you sure?" he wondered.

She sighed in kind exasperation. "You're beginning to sound like Kushina."

"I know she doesn't approve of the match."

"Emphatically," she nodded. "But really, she's just being selfish."

That surprised Minato. It must have shown on his face, because Mikoto quickly explained. "She's a little possessive of her friends; she doesn't like sharing them. I think she'd rather we be spinsters together forever, but… you know. She has to get used to the fact that people grow up and get married eventually. If she wants someone all to herself, maybe she should find herself a guy."

"I thought she already had someone?" Minato hedged uncertainly.

Mikoto frowned at him, confused. "Oh! You mean Sarutobi," she said. "Well… I don't know much about that guy. I think he's still stationed at the Waterfall border, but she doesn't talk much about him, though everyone says…"

"Says?" Minato prompted.

"Mm." Mikoto pressed her lips together. "I don't like to gossip about things I don't really know much about… especially considering what you're probably going through. You don't need me wittering away at you."

He hadn't felt that way at all, but Mikoto was already excusing herself, heading back to her fiancé's side. He looked around, hoping to find Kushina, but all he saw was her Sensei coming towards him purposefully. Minato almost retreated to hide behind some other guests. Sakumo looked harder than ever and he'd never been pleasant to Minato before, so everything inside him screamed to run.

But one had to hold onto one's dignity at a funeral, so Minato valiantly held his ground.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Minato-kun," Sakumo said, as a manner of greeting. "Though it's good to have you back home again."

As if Sakumo had ever missed him. "Thank you…"

"You've made Kushina quite the happy girl," her sensei told him.

Minato's mouth opened, but he didn't know what to say. His brain was still trying to dissect and comprehend the meaning of those words. "Oh," he said intelligently.

"Don't get any ideas," Sakumo said shortly, giving him such a look that a shiver of near-genuine fear rippled down Minato's spine.

"Ok," he squeaked meekly.

"I do hope you stay in the village a while longer," Sakumo went on, as if he hadn't just sent something short of a death threat his way. "I reckon if you stick around the Hokage might like a word with you soon. There's a promotion on the cards, isn't there?"

Which just hastened Minato's resolve to split from this town as soon as possible. "Ah-"

"What are you two talking about?" Kushina popped out from behind her sensei, a little boy swinging like a monkey from her hand. She looked suspiciously at Sakumo while the boy looked obstinately at Minato.

"Nothing," her sensei said quite innocently. His manner was markedly different with her than with Minato, like he suddenly became a much more mellow person. "I was just congratulating your friend on his imminent promotion."

Kushina looked at Minato and then looked back. "And why does he look scared?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Sakumo said, and crouched to scoop up his son who was now pulling faces at Minato, much to Minato's shock. "Come on, Kakashi. We should go or we'll be late for your exams again. Don't do that – if the wind changes, your face will stick like that and you'll have to wear a mask forever."

As her sensei departed with his son, Kushina turned a little anxiously to Minato. "He didn't threaten you, did he?"

"No," Minato said quickly, though had to rethink that. "Yes. Maybe. I'm not really sure…"

She sighed. "Don't mind him. He just thinks you're an arrogant, conceited player with a big-head."

"Oh." This didn't make him feel much better.

"I've tried to tell him you're not, but the more I insist, the more convinced he is that you're no good." She shook her head and looked at the mound of flowers around his family's grave. "I think this turned out quite well, don't you think?"

"Sure…" he said faintly. "But I doubt anyone here even knows who my father is."

"So? I wouldn't mind a bunch of strangers turning up at my funeral. Better than no one. Better than… not even having a grave marker."

Minato sealed his lips. He would not complain, not when he knew Kushina was standing next to him, thinking about her mother's death than went unnoticed by the world and unremarked upon by the living. His father had had a decent ceremony, and that was all that mattered. And the one person he had to thank for that was Kushina. So he said, "Thank you."

"No problem," she said, brushing it off with a self-conscious shrug like her contribution didn't matter. "You'll be alright though, won't you? Did you ask at the administration offices? About the will?"

He told her honestly that he had, though it had been hopeless. "I'll have to find somewhere else to live," he said, "but I don't think I have to worry about it for a while yet. I'm still needed at the border, so who knows when I'll be back in the village on a more permanent basis."

Kushina's eyes narrowed at him, as if he'd said something nonsensical. "But… I thought you were back for good," she said quietly.

"I only came to take care of my father."

"Weren't you… discharged for your health?" she asked.

Now it was his turn to look confused. "Um… no?"

"I must have heard wrong," she said, tapping her lip thoughtfully in a gesture he'd never seen before on her, though he wondered if he'd seen Mikoto doing it. "I could have sworn I heard someone in headquarters saying you had been sequestered pending mental health evaluation because someone had reported problems with you."

"Uh…"

She looked at his brain-dead expression as if it very well could have been true.

"Shikaku," he said.

"Who?" Kushina wrinkled her nose.

"The guy I'm going to kill."

* * *

Once the funeral service was over he went without delay, without even changing his clothes, to the jonin headquarters where all decisions pertaining to who went and who stayed were made. If, as he hoped, nothing at all was wrong, he would be able to put in his request for redeployment and within a week could be back at the border to help the final, dribbling war efforts.

But if Kushina was correct…

"I'm afraid you're suspended," said the jonin after calling Minato into her office. "We processed a request two days ago to give you a mental health evaluation - we were just about to give you notice. Apparently some of your fellow comrades have suspicions about your ability to cope with prolonged fighting."

"This is a misunderstanding," Minato insisted, trying to appear as sane as possible. "My superior officer was out to get me and my friend thought I was a lunatic for going on a suicide mission – it wasn't really a big deal."

"Your superior officer is out to get you?" echoed the jonin mildly.

"He… sent a prostitute to kill me," Minato told her.

"I see." She primly straightened some papers on her desk. "Well, if there's nothing to worry about, your assessment will be clean and you'll be permitted to return to duty as soon as possible."

"And how long will the assessment take?" Minato asked in dread.

"A couple of weeks."

Minato sighed loudly.

The jonin looked at him sharply. "You're a young man," she said with a hint of reproach in her tone. "You shouldn't be living for war. Take this opportunity to relax and spend some time with friends, and perhaps when the assessment is over, you won't be so quick to leave all this behind. Besides, troops are already being pulled out. You have to get used to the fact that war ends and life moves on."

This was of little use to Minato, who had the uncomfortable feeling that he didn't actually have a life. He hadn't particularly enjoyed it out on the border, but he'd had a niche, and he'd been good at what he was doing, and suddenly being grounded back in the village left him feeling like a flightless bird. His purpose was gone, for now at least, until he cleared up the mess Shikaku had thrust upon him, and his father had died, irrevocably changing his life here forever. It would take him a while to find his place again.

"Well… thanks anyway," he sighed.

"No problem," said the jonin. "And keep your chin up. You're up for promotion, aren't you?"

"Right."

In resignation he returned to his little room behind the public house, knowing now that this was not to be some temporary jaunt. This was indefinite. Still, he continued to refuse looking too closely at his feelings in fear of discovering this development was upsetting him more than his father's death. In truth he should have been grieving right then, preoccupied by thoughts only about his father, but he was struggling to keep his mind on mortality and off things like the trouble Shikaku had caused and Kushina's skin. And so besides the frustration and confusion that mired him, he also found himself wallowing in shame.

* * *

The next few weeks were not easy. Being hauled in for mental health assessment also meant he couldn't even do regular missions until he was given the all clear. And it was a little embarrassing, he had to admit, to be seen going into the psychiatric ward of the village hospital, where some tedious woman who didn't seem to ever blink asked him a lot of deceptively mundane questions and stared at him as he tried to give her the most mundane, sane answers he could think of.

"What's your favourite colour, minato?" she asked.

"Uh… r-red," he said, and watched her scribble something awfully long-winded in her note-book as if he'd just revealed his passion for wearing dresses on weekends and calling himself Minako.

His friends seemed rather understanding, or perhaps just a touch careful not to vex him. Impossibly, he was revered even more so. Heroes with dubious mental health were, as Chichi told him, much more exciting, which was just what Minato needed because she informed him that he had little personality to speak of anyway. Which was kind of her to mention.

Inoichi was always a little subdued around him. If he still told lewd jokes about Kushina – or any girl – he stopped them around Minato, and if ever the conversation turned to Kushina or they crossed paths on the street, he seemed to avoid looking at her. He was apparently trying to make an effort not to give anyone the impression he was interested in her. This was somewhat ruined by the fact that he cornered Kushina one afternoon outside her house and begged her to go out with him. Kushina related the story to Minato in mortification.

"And what did you say?" he asked her.

"I said I was already seeing someone," she whispered. "He looked really desperate."

"You didn't tell him to eat shi-"

"No, I didn't need to," she interrupted. "I don't know why, but he's not as unbearable as he used to be. I told him the girl at the flower stall was interested in him, and that seemed to cheer him up at least."

Kushina, on the other hand, was becoming more unbearable than ever. The date of Mikoto's wedding was approaching and with every day it edged nearer, the more Kushina began to resemble a snapping turtle in her temperament. It was quite easy to see her in the market in the morning, buying flowers or groceries and to call out a cheerful 'Hello!', only to be treated to a foul glare, a biting retort, and/or a string of expletives.

Oddly, this was more like the Kushina he remembered, so he was more than comfortable when she was like this. When she wasn't on a mission, he could usually find her on the market street in the mornings, and from there he could contrive a casual excuse to accompany her to wherever she headed next, which was usually to breakfast at a teahouse or the library. He was more than happy to listen to her talk – or rather _rant –_ about Mikoto and Fugu-face and their wedding.

"I don't know what she sees in him," she said loudly in the library one morning browsing shelves for books – for at some point in his absence she had learned to love them. Unfortunately, they were not of the academic, broaden-your-horizons kind; they were more of the trashy Point-Horror kind. "He's this horrible po-faced smug bastard who thinks he can snap his fingers and everyone should obey his every whim i_ncluding _Mikoto. How can anyone marry someone like that? They should definitely wait another five years – or, you know, at least until she can longer stand him. It'll happen eventually. Even Mikoto's patience has limits."

"Shh!" hissed some unseen busy-body from behind one of the many stacks of books around them.

"SHHH!" hissed back Kushina, much more loudly. "Some people are _so_ rude!" she exclaimed. "Have they invited you to their wedding yet?"

Minato stirred. It had been a long time since she'd invited him to speak, and he'd been staring at this dog-eared copy of 'Unbelievable Ghost Sightings' for so long he'd almost forgotten he existed. "Um… no," he said.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Um, well, I think they were going to," he said, dimly recalling an incident three days ago when the couple in question had approached him unexpectedly in what seemed like an obvious opening to invite the hero of Konoha along to the most important day of their lives. "But then I forgot Fugaku's name, and all that came out of my mouth was… Fugu."

Kushina gave him a proud smile.

"They left quite quickly after that."

"Well, I'm allowed to invite one other person with me if my invite doesn't get revoked by then. You can be my _plus one_ if you like."

He closed his book. "Really? Isn't there someone else you'd rather invite?"

She looked confused. "Everyone else I know already has an invite."

"What about Sarutobi?"

"Saru's still on tour at the Waterfall border," she said dismissively, looking down at her long, pretty fingers. "He won't make it back in time."

"That's a shame," sighed Minato, not missing how she'd shortened his name to just 'monkey' in a way that could have been rudeness or affection.

Kushina pulled a face. "Why?"

"I'd like to meet him, I guess."

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

She thought about that. "You have enough fans without actively looking for more."

"I just want to meet the people who are important to you, that's all," he said.

"Why?" she repeated, suspicion intensifying on her face.

"I keep hearing about him."

"From who?"

"Well, not from you. You hardly ever mention him."

"Probably because he's none of your business."

"You don't want to talk about him?" he wondered.

Her fingers tapped against the table and her mouth twisted to the side. "No," she said.

"Is he ugly?"

Kushina looked uncomfortable. "Minato, stop it."

"You're a very private person, aren't you?" he observed with a faint smile.

She echoed the smile more uncertainly. "And you didn't used to pry."

"You can't blame me for being curious," he said, watching her get up. Was she about to stalk off in one of her legendary huffs? "Every time I hear his name, yours follows, and vice versa. You're my friend... so I thought you'd want to talk about him."

"Saru is my captain. What else do you want me to say about him?" she said, moving to start aggressively hunting through the books on the shelf behind her so that he couldn't see her face.

"I think you mentioned him in your letters. You said you were becoming friends with him?"

"We're friends. So what?" she demanded.

Her defensiveness only confirmed that they had to be a lot more than just friends, though he didn't know if her caginess was because of fraternization rules between subordinates and superiors, or because she really was as intensely private as she acted. "I'm just glad," he said with a mild shrug. "When I left, you didn't have many friends. Now you have quite a few."

"I have enough," she said curtly. "Unlike some people who make a million friends and forget their faces as soon as they leave the room, my friends mean a lot to me even if they are few." When she turned back to the table with a new book, she witnessed his stupid smile. "What?" she snapped.

"I never forgot you."

"Then why did you stop writing?"

Ah. Minato sat back, surprised. She'd said it with such swift, righteous anger that he realised it was a question she'd been holding in her hand for a long time, waiting to present to him since the moment he first got back. All he could think to say was, "You were the one who stopped."

The old glue in her book's spine cracked audibly as she opened it and proceeded to glare at its pages. Another horror novel. One could glean many strange and interesting ways to kill irritating people from a book like that and he hoped it wasn't giving her ideas. "I never," she said firmly. "But you did, after I sent you that letter about sensei's wife and having to fight Waterfall. You could have at least had the decency to respond."

"I did!" he protested, indignant that he could be so wronged.

She looked at him as if not sure whether to believe him. "I never got another word from you after that. All I heard about you was from the stuff people were saying, and I realised you probably didn't want to be bothered trading letters with some stupid girl anymore."

His mouth dropped open. "What were people saying?"

Unable to concentrate on her book, she clapped it shut again. "You know, everyone knew who you were before you were the Yellow Flasher-"

"Flash."

"- and they said you were the best ninja in the war against the water country and possibly the best ninja of any war of any period. They said you had killed over a hundred people in your first year, that you killed a prostitute in your second, and wiped out a whole mist outpost in your third."

Minato could see his reputation seemed to get bigger the further away from him it got. "None of that's really true."

"Really?" she looked a tiny bit relieved.

"Well, I lost count of how many people I killed by the first year, the prostitute was really an assassin posing as a prostitute, and I only wiped some of the outpost out, not all of it."

Relief turned to a fixed stare that reminded him strongly of his mental health assessor, like she was mulling over the state of his mind in her own before she finally sighed and looked at her hands again. "We're not really the same people we used to be, are we?" she asked quietly. "You've changed so much, I don't really understand you anymore."

"You're the one who changed, Kushina," he stated simply. "Maybe because you've grown so much I look different to your eyes."

She shrugged stiffly. For someone who could articulate so well in anger, she clammed up spectacularly when she was sombre.

"Well, you weren't the only one who heard things," he said. "Aren't there rumours going around that you spent a year at the Waterfall border and didn't kill a single enemy?"

She shook her head, looking dismayed and annoyed. "That's not true," she said, deliberately not looking at him. "I killed one person, and then I decided not to do it anymore."

"How can you just 'decide' like that?" He frowned in confusion. Captains didn't hesitate to give penalties to nin who didn't carry out their orders.

"These were my own people, what was I supposed to do?" she shrugged helplessly. "Waterfall is full of former Whirlpool citizens, and by some flip of a coin I could just as easily have ended up on the other side of that war, fighting a losing battle."

"So you're a pacifist now?" he said incredulously. She really was a long way from the girl who had once tried to convince him that some people deserved to die.

Kushina gave him a frustrated look. "You say that like it's a dirty word. But it's not like I ran away or stopped doing my job. Just because I didn't kill my opponents doesn't make me a coward."

"I never said you were," he said quickly.

"Well, that's what everyone else said. I let them escape. I had to. Our force was too small to take prisoners, so it was either kill them or let them go. So I let them go."

This was incomprehensible to Minato. Sometimes enemies had escaped him, and a few he'd cheerfully let scamper away, but to allow that in every single confrontation? How could a war be won if defeated enemies were allowed to regroup and return to fight another day?

"What did your captain say?" he asked.

"What does it matter what Saru said?" she snapped, which Minato took to mean he wasn't best pleased. "We won the war within the year, so it obviously didn't matter what I did. But maybe at least there are people walking around today who wouldn't be here otherwise."

Minato could not say the same for himself. He could count on one hand the number of people he'd shown mercy to, and because of him there were hundreds of people – mothers, fathers, children, and friends - who were not walking around today.

"And this is why you don't like me?" he asked. "You think I'm some deranged killer now?"

"I never said that. It's impossible for anyone to dislike you," she chided, which seemed like a good way not to answer his question. "You're just… more distant than I remember. You don't talk much anymore."

Was he distant? If he said little it was because he could think of nothing to say, not because he was consciously keeping his distance. He remained silent because she filled that silence with a voice that was soft and ever so slightly husky, which undulated appealingly with the traces of an old Whirlpool accent. Why would he interrupt that? "Or maybe you just talk more these days," he pointed out.

"Sorry," she said contritely.

"No, I like that," he amended quickly. Girls could be a little sensitive to accusations of 'talking too much', he found. "You're interesting."

She grimaced as if she didn't find this even remotely believable. "There are far more interesting people than me to hang out with."

"Yes," he agreed, because she didn't like silly placatory lies. "But you smell better than they do."

Perhaps that had been a little too honest. A puzzled kind of smirk pulled up her lip. "You're so weird." But then she smiled and laughed too, so he could assume that she at least somewhat approved of his weirdness.

* * *

The wedding between Uchiha Fugaku and Uchiha Mikoto was held on a beautiful autumn day when the forests were turning red and crisp leaves littered the streets like brown paper stars. It was the talk of the village, naturally, since this marriage would cement Fugaku's place as the head of the Uchiha clan and such a person was always of political interest in Konoha where the Uchiha controlled so many departments. There was no mistaking that this was a marriage of convenience, but there was always a titter of romance about arranged marriages. In these traditional households it was viewed as the beginning of a love story, whereas a marriage between long-time lovers was merely the conclusion.

Kushina insisted this was the beginning of a horror story, regardless of the many rumours that the bride was in love with the groom. She turned up outside his rented room behind the pub on the day of the wedding, dressed alarmingly in black again, and she looked approvingly at his own choice of outfit, as all he owned was black.

"This is the worst day of my life," she lamented passionately, as they made their way down to the Uchiha compound where the ceremony would take place.

"I think Mikoto is quite happy," he tried to remind her.

"But who cares if Kushina is unhappy?" grumped Kushina. She was in an especially bad mood that day, not just because of the imminent wedding, but because yesterday her home had been invaded by a band of Uchiha cousins who had packed all Mikoto's belongings into boxes to take to her new address. This was upsetting at the best of times, Kushina said, but particularly because they had packed Kushina's collection of tropical ferns by mistake.

Minato hadn't known Kushina was the kind of person to keep tropical ferns. He was still learning things about her even now.

"Cheer up," he cajoled. He'd seen happier suicidal people than Kushina.

"I will not. And I will never cheer up again," she declared ardently.

People knew when Kushina had arrived, for she brought with her the most incredible aura of malice and gloom. She might as well have been followed by a little black raincloud wherever she went, and though a few people were brave enough to approach Minato and exchange a few gushing pleasantries and worship, no one quite had the nerve to look Kushina in the eye. If this was a fairytale wedding, she was the evil, jealous witch who had turned up to curse the happy couple, though it was not the groom she coveted, but the bride. Here was everyone dressed in their best and brightest kimonos, and there was Kushina, like an angry ink blot in the midst of a sea of joyful colour.

Because it didn't really feel right to ditch the person who'd invited him along, he was more or less stuck with her. And her gloom was infectious. Anyone who looked over at them would think they'd mistaken this for another funeral, as they skulked together looking equally miserable.

The Uchiha were the kind of people who observed tradition to the letter. Minato had never seen an authentic old-fashioned wedding dress before, complete with its enormous white hood, and Mikoto carried it off beautifully. Perhaps it was because her make-up had been done by artisans and she was glowing with demure happiness, but Minato finally noticed that Mikoto was not just pretty but was in fact _stunning_. As he watched her proceed to the altar, he saw her soon-to-be-husband was not at all indifferent to his-soon-to-be-wife. An arranged marriage it might have been, yes, but these two were the happiest people in the room.

Minato looked at Kushina and sighed. She was grinding her teeth and looking at Fugaku as if she might be able to make his head explode with the power of her mind alone. She would refuse to be happy for her friend out of principle, but fortunately the couple were too wrapped up in the vows to notice the gremlin in the first row.

And when it came time for the groom to lean in and kiss his beautiful wife, Kushina gave a great jerk which made Minato fear she was about to leap to her feet and push them apart. Just to be safe, he grabbed Kushina's hand and held on tight to prevent her from moving. It seemed to work. Kushina forgot to glare at Fugaku because she was busy blushing and trying to wriggle her hand free from his. By the time he let go, the vows were complete and there was nothing Kushina could do to further interfere. While everyone clapped and cheered and accepted ceremonial sake, the red-headed troll slunk away instead of joining the clamour of congratulations.

Minato worried she would regret it.

The first person who came up to Minato was Inoichi. "What were you doing here with Kushina?" he asked suspiciously. "Are you two dating or something?"

"No," Minato said. "I'm her _plus one_."

"Tell me that's a euphemism for a sex buddy."

"What do you care who Kushina is with – you're here with the flower girl," Minato pointed out. (Said flower girl was currently speaking to Mikoto, complementing the floral arrangements around the hall in a strained way, for if she had been in charge of said arrangements, she would have gone for peonies to denote a happy marriage, and certainly _not_ the travesty of purple aconitums which _everyone_ knew inferred a foe was nearby. Said flower girl was also unaware of Kushina.)

"You have no shame, Namikaze," Inoichi said coyly. "Don't you have a girl back out on the border?"

"Do I?" Minato wondered.

"Shikaku has told me _all_ about Yoshi."

"Yes, he probably has. He's besotted with her."

"Not _his_ Yoshi. _You're_ Yoshi. The blonde one."

"Oh," said Minato, suddenly remembering he had completely forgotten her. "Yes."

"How come you haven't said anything about her?" Inoichi said suspiciously. "Hoping Kushina won't find out?"

Now he realised why Kushina got so cagey when he pressed her about Sarutobi. Being quizzed on your romances was probably classed as torture in some countries. He shifted uncomfortably and wished there was some brightly coloured ball or toy he could use to distract Inoichi. "I don't think Kushina would really care. I told you, we're not together like that."

"Just as well," said Inoichi, "Sarutobi's coming home soon and he'll probably flay anyone alive who's moved in on his territory."

"Is that so?" Minato murmured, knowing full well that Inoichi would happily have risked such a flaying. "I didn't realise Kushina was a territory."

"And a very fine one, I'd be happy to conquer any time," Inoichi said.

Minato made a gesture like he was reaching for a kunai from the absent holster on his hip; Inoichi flinched impressively. "Relax," he smiled, contriving to appear as if he hadn't intended to scare the other boy. "I wouldn't stab you. Not at a wedding."

"Yes, well..." Not at all comforted, Inoichi peered around furtively and asked, "You haven't seen Kushina around, have you?" Although he may have been looking for back-up against Minato's questionable sanity.

"I'm sure she's around." Like Minato was stupid enough to point the way.

"Probably scrounging around for the bouquet," Inoichi said.

"It's not that kind of wedding," Minato reminded. He couldn't imagine the noble Uchiha partaking in anything as whimsical as flower lobbing. "And I doubt Kushina's that eager to get married."

"Don't be so sure. Sarutobi is a handsome guy, even _I'd_ be tempted." Inoichi spotted the flower girl waving to him and gladly slipped away through the crowd to join her. Minato looked around for familiar faces. There was Hatake Sakumo over there, minus his son, so Minato made sure to move discreetly in the opposite direction to avoid any more awkward confrontations. Did the jonin really regard him as an arrogant, conceited player? Although in a village where most of the population held him in ridiculously high esteem, one or two who judged him negatively shouldn't have mattered. Except it _was_ Kushina's sensei, and for some stupid reason, he'd always sort of hoped that the kind of person she would look up to would also like him.

"_There_ you are!"

So busy avoiding the senior Hatake, he'd almost literally walked into the bride.

"Mikoto," he said, nodding to her pleasantly, and then to her husband. "Fugu-aku."

And if there was one person who hated him even more, it was Uchiha Fugaku. The bride coughed sweetly as a muscle twitched in her groom's cheek. There was no salvaging the wreck of his first impression now, and he could only blame Kushina for planting just a damn memorable nickname into his head. "Uh, congratulations," he forced out, trying to move away from his blunder.

"Thank you," Mikoto said graciously. "Did… Kushina invite you along?"

Because Fugu-face certainly hadn't.

"Yes, she's around somewhere," he said.

"Probably poisoning my wine as we speak," Fugaku said.

"Hush," Mikoto said. As much as she apparently disliked Kushina talking ill about her husband, she didn't like it when he did it either.

"Come on, we have to say hello to your grandparents," Fugaku said, steering his new wife away by the elbow. He was a little domineering, and Minato wondered if in a few years that would begin to chafe against Mikoto's nerves. For now at least, she was still glowing with delight and happiness, even if she looked a little troubled as she turned to call to Minato over her shoulder.

"If you see her, tell her I'm looking for her," she said, before she was soundly whisked back into the clutches of her clan.

Where _was_ Kushina, anyway? Minato wandered from one end of the hall to the other, looking around for the girl who should have been extremely easy to spot, dressed in black and with such vivid red hair. But it seemed she'd snuck out of the room entirely. Perhaps she'd gone back out the front of the building? Something told him that Kushina, who disliked crowds and preferred her little hidey-holes, would have headed the opposite way.

He found a side-door and slipped through it into the quieter confines of the house, down corridors that led to many empty rooms and one bustling kitchen. A door to a private garden was propped open to let the heat of the cooking out. Minato followed the breeze onto a quaint little patio and followed the path down to what looked like the shadiest, weediest part of the garden.

And indeed, that was where he found Kushina, crouched down behind an old shed with tears streaming down her face. She swore when she saw him. "What do you want?"

"Nothing urgent," he promised, shifting awkwardly. There were few things more painful to witness in this world than a crying girl. "Um, I can come back…"

"Just spit it out, Flasher," she said, scrubbing at her face. "What do you want?"

"It's Flash," he corrected patiently, "but it's not really important. Are you ok?"

"I'll live," she croaked, giving a great big shuddering sigh.

"You'll still see her, you know," he said, moving forward to crouched tentatively on the mossy rocks beside her. "It's not like you'll never see her again. She's only moving down the road."

Kushina have him a watery glare. "It won't be the same. It was bad enough before when they spent every other second together. Now they're actually _married."_

"You could try being happy for them?" he suggested tentatively.

That seemed a little too radical for Kushina. She pulled a face, before burying it in her arms. "I'd rather not," she said. "It would only encourage them."

"Oh, come on, what's so bad about Fugaku?" he wondered. "The guy's a bit stiff, but he honestly seems to love her."

"He's bad, I can feel it," Kushina said simply, lifting her head to glare off into the trees. "He's going to get her into real trouble one of these days."

He smiled at her. "You're too suspicious."

"And you only bother to see the good in people," she retorted. "Fugaku is _bad news_. I can wait though. He'll pull something one day and I'll be right there with the divorce papers."

Traditionally it was the couple who decided when they should divorce, not their friends, but Kushina was totally convincing. He believed her. "Look on the bright side," he said, spreading his hands. "Mikoto may be marrying a sour-faced pufferfish, but since she's moved out you'll have more room to yourself. Isn't that something?"

"No," she said sullenly. "I hate living by myself… it's way too quiet and I can't afford the rent alone, which means I'll have to find someone else to share with and I _hate_ breaking in new tenants."

He smiled. "Think how I feel. I've got to find a place to live, and people can be pretty picky who they rent out to."

Kushina scoffed indelicately. "You have a legendary title now. You could waltz up to the Hokage himself and demand a room; he'd probably give it you."

"I was thinking of something a little more in price range," he said. "Remind me… what is my price range?" She knew his accounts far better than he did.

She sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. "There's this bridge that goes over a river that I think you might like."

He laughed sarcastically. "Do I look like a troll?"

"Only sometimes," she replied ruefully, though at least her eyes were beginning to dry and her voice had stopped cracking. "What do you have to worry about, seriously? You could just mooch off your millions of friends for the rest of your life if you like."

"Or I could move in with you?"

Her eyes jumped to his and searched his face. "Steady on," she muttered, turning pick as if he'd suggested she take her clothes off in front of him.

"Well, why not?" he asked. He turned to her more fully, eyes bright with the perfect solution he could see unravelling neatly before them. "You need a tenant and I need a place to live – you don't have to break me in because I'm already broken!"

"Mentally maybe," she remarked, looking away.

Kushina was avoiding an answer. His proposal had clearly made her uncomfortable and she looked as if she was searching for a way to change the subject or turn him down politely, but the trees she was staring so hard at weren't going to give her the answer she was looking for. Anyone would think he'd proposed marriage she way she'd reacted.

He sighed quietly to himself. "It's just a convenient solution," he pointed out.

"Sharing with girls is one thing," she said. "Boys..."

"Just the one boy," he reminded quickly. "And it's not like you don't know me."

"I know, but..." She winced awkwardly, holding her arms about her more tightly. Her eyes still refused to meet his, and Minato felt this was somewhat like trying to stab the hardest pea on the plate with a fork. She _would_ keep skittering away every time he tried to pin her down for a straight answer.

"Is this about Sarutobi?" he guessed. Perhaps she was thinking her boyfriend wouldn't be happy if he returned to find another man in her house.

"Would you stop going _on_ about him," she sighed, exasperated. "What would this have to do with him?"

Minato shrugged at her. He wasn't entirely sure himself anyway.

"I'll think about it," Kushina said evasively, getting to her feet and brushing the soft strands of moss that clung to her lovely backside. It was really quite interesting to watch, and while she was avoiding his eyes, he was free to stare as much as he liked. "If no one else wants the room, I'll consider it."

"Good," he said dryly. "I like being people's last resort."

"Quite the change for you, huh?" She reached out to offer him a hand. "You coming?"

He accepted it dubiously, "Coming where?"

She had extraordinary strength in those lean arms, and she pulled him to his feet as if he wasn't so much taller and had three stones on her. From out of her pocket she pulled a narrow flask that was unmistakably the kind of flask grizzly old alcoholics took swigs from when they were away from a pub. He shot her a look of faint reproach as she twirled the flask around her fingers from its short strap. "This party's a little stiff and traditional, isn't it?" she remarked. "Let's liven it up a little. Where's that punch bowl...?"

Her propensity for pranks hadn't changed much, and later Fugaku, with a bag of ice to his head and the worst hangover of his life, would be able to tell his wife who had scolded him for suggesting Kushina would spike his wine, _'I told you so'_ in an immensely satisfied way, after spending their wedding night too inebriated to consummate their marriage.

On the plus side, Kushina's mood improved greatly after this, and when she turned up a few days later on Minato's doorstep with an extra key to her apartment cut especially for him and said "Why haven't you packed up yet?", so did Minato's.

* * *

TBC


	12. Sarutobi Ren

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twelve: Sarutobi Ren

* * *

Kushina's house was like something out of a fairytale. When he'd learnt of its existence, he'd naturally assumed it would be like any teenager's first rented home – on the low-end of the market, incredibly cheap with a side of rising damp. And perhaps it had been that way when she'd moved in, but it was clear from the moment he stepped through the door with all his worldly possessions in a box beneath his arm, that Kushina had worked herself to the bone to make this dainty little house the nicest on the street.

The first thing that struck him was the smell – a mix between soap and perfume and fresh, sweet flowers. It couldn't have been more obvious that a pair of girls had lived in this house, and he wondered how long after he moved in it would start smelling of old socks and mouldy food the way his tent on the border had. Then there was the lightness of the rooms, and soft furniture that – although was cheap – were all so carefully cared for they looked like quality. It was also incredibly tidy. A bowl of flowers sat on the table behind the sofa and ornamental objects lined the bookshelves instead of books. He looked around in faint amazement as Kushina fidgeted behind him, awaiting his approval.

Perhaps it was because Kushina had lived for so long without possessions, and certainly without anything _nice_ to call her own, that she took especial pride in this house and all the things in it. For someone on her wages, she must have scrounged and saved every penny, investing almost all of it into her home. Then there was the tiny little garden outside the living room that could only have been made so beautiful with a heavy investment of time and energy, not just money.

He looked out the window at the flowerbeds full of colour and then back at Kushina. "You like gardening?" he asked.

"It's my hobby," she said, looking back stolidly like she was daring him to make something of it.

"This is really nice," he said, which he felt was bit of an understatement. 'Nice' was something you said about an average house to someone whom you didn't wish to offend. This was picturesque, but he didn't want to be too enthusiastic in case Kushina thought he was pulling her leg. "Where's my room?"

She took him upstairs and pointed it out. "This one used to be my room," she said, "but Mikoto's had a nicer view so I moved into hers when she left. This is bigger though, so..."

He looked around the simply furnished room, with its narrow bed beneath a sloping ceiling and skylight window, and he bit his lip. It smelled very strongly of Kushina in here.

"You can have the other room if you like," Kushina babbled. "But I figured, you're a boy, you probably want the space to spread out and do... boy stuff."

What did she think boys got up to in their rooms? Minato smiled gratefully and said it would do just nicely, and when she suggested he could change anything he liked about the room to make it more comfortable, he jokingly asked if he could paint it pink. Kushina just looked pained.

There wasn't much to move in. His clothes left most of his new wardrobe almost as bare as when he'd arrived, and he filled most of the drawers in his rather feminine dresser with weapons and maintenance accessories. The only possessions he'd taken from his old house were his navy-blue bed clothes (he just couldn't bear to actually use the flowery print ones Kushina offered) and Mr. Nose in all his noseless glory.

Once settled, Kushina lay down the ground rules. Rent was monthly and had to be given to her on time or else he was out. There was to be no loud music after nine in the evening or he was out. The floorboards of the stairs squeaked loudly whenever anyone used them, so if he ever returned to the house after she'd gone to bed, he would have to climb in through his own bedroom window or else he was out. No putting feet up on the coffee table. Drinks must always be put on coasters. Everything in the top two shelves of the fridge was hers, and if she found anything missing he would be out. She would not buy his food, cook his dinner, wash his clothes, or clean his room. He would have to do these things himself, and if she didn't think he was doing an adequate job, he would be out then too.

It was a lot to remember. So he figured the general rule was to not touch anything and keep out of her way as much as possible.

That was easy enough to do. He rarely ever spent much time at home anyway, always preferring to roam the streets aimlessly instead of returning to his humble abode – a lifetime with his father made habits that were hard to break. If ever he was home, it was just as likely that Kushina was out running her errands or on missions. There was a chalk-board in the kitchen that she used to leave him messages, telling him if she would be gone for a few days, or that if he left the fridge open one more time she would poison him.

It was perplexing how one could live with someone and see very little of them. He appreciated that she had her own life and was busy, but he had imagined that by moving in together this would also entail a degree of closeness that he realised wasn't forthcoming.

If nothing else, it at least explained why the house was so neat and perfect; Kushina was barely in it.

This in turn had its own perks. One time while Kushina was away with her team in the wave country, he gave into temptation and snuck into her room. He was really just interested in what a girl's room looked like and the kind of things Kushina would keep in there. As with every other room in the house, it smelled like her, but more strongly than ever, and he took his time leisurely looking over the objects on her dresser – nail polish, make-up remover, moisturiser, and something called hair lacquer. It seemed it took an awful lot of effort and scientific research to keep Kushina looking subtly glamorous, and even then he thought this was probably pretty modest for a girl's cosmetic collection.

Her desk was more sensible, holding weighty volumes of nature manipulation theory and gardening, and a collection of pens and scissors. There was a diary in one drawer, but he didn't touch it. He was only interested in understanding her realm and interests, not her most intimate thoughts. Besides, if he read it he knew he would only be upset if he found anything unflattering about himself in there.

Looking through her other drawers he found her old hitai-ate with the Whirlpool insignia – the one he'd had fixed to a new ribbon for her graduation. Although she no longer wore it, she still apparently kept it clean and in its own drawer, so it still meant a lot to her.

He steered clear of her underwear drawer after he stumbled across it – another matter of intense privacy he had no right to, though he took his time looking at the clothes in her closet. She'd once worn androgynous sweaters and threadbare shorts, but her wardrobe now looked typical of a teenage girl. She had the obligatory chunin uniform that he'd never seen her wear (she seemed to prefer wearing her leggings with a snug, blue tunic over a long sleeved shirt, forgoing the standard issue vest and sandals) and many more casual clothes, including several skirts and even a dress.

Minato wondered if he'd ever get to see her in a dress.

Before leaving, he made sure to lift the sleeve one of her shirts to his nose and inhale that unique smell that was a mix of washing powder and perfume. He was always worried that by living with her, his nose would simply stop smelling this delightful smell one day, and then where would he be?

And it was during one of these occasions when Kushina was away, and Minato was nearing the end of his psychological assessment, that a fateful knock struck against their shared door.

Minato opened it curiously to find a dark-haired stranger standing on the doorstep, wearing the uniform and markings of a jonin. "Oh," the stranger said when he saw Minato, looking unsure and dismayed. "I thought this was Uzumaki Kushina's house."

"It is," Minato answered. "If you're looking for her, she's out on a mission right now, though she should be back in a couple of days."

"I see." The stranger looked even more crestfallen. He also looked surprisingly familiar. Kushina's front door held a spectacular view of the Hokage monument, and when Minato glanced over the man's shoulder to look at the third face emerging from the cliffs, suddenly he knew who this man resembled.

"Sorry," he said, "but is your name Sarutobi, by any chance."

"Yes," said Sarutobi, looking surprised. "Sarutobi Ren. Kushina's mentioned me?"

Actually, it was more like everyone _but_ Kushina had mentioned him. "Yeah."

"And you must be..." Sarutobi narrowed his eyes as he looked over Minato's blonde hair and blue eyes. "Namikaze Minato, isn't it?" When Minato nodded he looked relieved. "Oh, Kushina's told me all about you too – and of course, I've heard about you and your victory over one of the swordsmen of the mist! It's an honour to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Minato said mildly, for he was busy measuring Sarutobi discreetly from head to toe. He was as tall as Minato had imagined, and had the same kind, open face that the Hokage possessed. Sort of handsome, but on the soft and vague side, though his thick black hair and dark eyes made him distinctive where he could have been ordinary. It was the kind of face Minato liked, and it was the kind of face that held a deceptive appeal to girls. Minato could easily imagine Kushina falling for such a person out on the frontlines.

"I had no idea you were living together though," said Sarutobi, glancing past him uncertainly. "I thought she was living with Uchiha Mikoto."

"She was. Mikoto got married, so Kushina's renting the spare room to me out of the kindness of her heart," Minato said quickly. "That's all."

"Oh, good." Sarutobi's relief was almost comical for how obvious it was. "For a moment there I thought... well, never mind. It was nice to meet you! When Kushina returns, please tell her I came by."

Sarutobi made a gesture that was halfway between a wave and a salute and began to step away from the door. Minato was not done with him yet, however. "I was wondering if you could tell me something," he said, before the other man could escape.

"Uh, sure." Sarutobi quizzically tilted his head. It was quite startling, because it was exactly what Kushina had started doing. Now who had copied whom?

"How old are you?"

The man was beginning to look worried. "Twenty-five. Why?"

That was _far_ too old. But then maybe Kushina liked mature men? "Ok. It was nice to meet you."

The door slammed shut.

* * *

It was with a heart-lifting relief that Minato took his final mental health assessment. Not even the unblinking woman could get him down, nor her impertinent questions about his relationship with his father or the less than subtle questions like, "Do you feel like snapping and killing everyone around you? From time to time?"

An end to his assessments meant a new beginning to his career. And hints had been dropped like clangers by his superiors that he was due for a promotion, and sure enough, when the results of his assessment came out with the conclusion that he was about as sane as anyone could expect for a shinobi (which wasn't much) he received a message to attend to the Hokage immediately.

Minato had been dreading this moment a little, not half because the Hokage was still an intimidating figure who seemed to expect more of him than anyone else he'd ever known. At least, he thought as he entered the man's office, the Hokage wasn't as tall as he remembered. Now when they stood, they were almost eye to eye, although the first thing Minato did was sink to one knee and bow his head, for a lowly chunin did not greet the leader of a hidden village without a _little _kowtowing_.  
_

"Please rise, my dear boy," the Hokage said, waggling his pipe at Minato. "I've been hearing many great things about you."

Although he'd obviously been hearing a lot about his questionable sanity too, to have pounced no sooner was he given the all-clear.

"Taking down one of the seven swordsmen is something even I'd think twice about doing myself," the Hokage confided to him, though everyone knew if the Hokage had gotten it into his head to go after General Akuze, said General would have fled at the sight of him. "I think it's safe to say we have a special young man on our hands. I've had some recommendations from the other jonin, including Commander Danzou, that you may be ready for promotion. How do you feel about that?"

It was like being back with the unblinking woman. How did he feel? Minato struggled for an answer, for he wasn't in the business of categorising how any one thing made him feel, except obvious things, like how chocolate coated breakfast cereal made him feel sick.

"Honoured," he said, after a briefly panicked pause. "Although, I'm surprised the commander has such high opinions of me."

"Well, let's not get too carried away. He recommends promotion, but he also insists you have a problem with authority and arrogance."

It could have been worse. He could have recommended 'execution', which would have reflected Danzou's real feelings towards Minato more accurately. Calling him an arrogant renegade was pretty tame compared to some of the things Danzou had done, and Minato wondered if he should tell the Hokage that his commander was a little dangerous. Except... he most likely already knew that, and what proof did Minato have that Danzou had tried to kill him anyway?

"_Do_ you think you have a problem with authority, Minato?" the Hokage asked wonderingly.

"Only... with commander Danzou's authority," Minato hedged uncertainly. "Possibly."

"Ah, well that proves it!" The Hokage clapped his freckled hands together. "How could I not offer a promotion now?"

"Thank you, sir," Minato bowed his head again, blushing a little.

"My nephew, Ren, is waiting for you outside," the Hokage informed him. "I believe you've already met? He'll show you the ropes and explain what's expected of you, and the official ceremony for your induction will be held in two days."

Minato flinched a little. "Uh – could that be postponed a little?"

"Why, you have something better to do than accept this very gracious offer?" The Hokage fixed a stare at him over the puffs of smoke rising from the pipe in his mouth.

Minato coloured all over again. He'd only hoped to delay the ceremony a few more days so that Kushina could attend; she would still be on her mission for another three days. But one did not make the Hokage rearrange his schedule to accommodate the whims of a lowly chunin – soon to be a slightly-less-lowly jonin. "Of course not, sir," he said meekly.

"Good, good." The Hokage sank back into his amicable facade of a harmless old man. "Off with you."

So the second time Minato met with Kushina's Sarutobi, it was much less of a shock to both of them. As promised, he was shown the 'ropes' which included a tour of the jonin headquarters and an introduction to most of the other jonin, and the special jonin privileged vending machines. Sarutobi imparted his wisdom and experience with precise brevity and enthusiasm, and it was easy to see that he'd been an excellent captain out in the field. He loved his job.

When his tour slipped into anecdotes, Minato was particular impressed with one story about how he'd managed to confuse the Waterfall enemy in their own terrain by literally modifying the landscape with some earth-jutsu that had taken the cooperation of ten ninja to pull off. There was now apparently one small edge of the border where the waterfalls suddenly disappeared and the land turned into a jagged array of pits and cliffs and gargantuan spikes.

"Kushina wasn't very happy, of course," Sarutobi said. "Said something about destroying the natural beauty of the landscape. Natural gardener, that girl."

Something her captain had apparently learned before Minato. "A little soft-hearted?" he guessed.

"She can be a little sentimental sometimes," Sarutobi admitted lightly.

This reminded Minato of another question that had been bothering him for quite some time. "I was wondering if you could tell me something."

"Uh, sure."

"I heard a lot of rumours about Kushina in Waterfall, but she doesn't like to talk about it much. I was just wondering... is it true?"

The jonin seemed to understand immediately what he was driving at. "About the Angel of Mercy stuff?" Sarutobi shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. It was pretty extraordinary."

Of course, Minato was already sure it was true. What he was really interested in was hearing what 'Saru' thought of it. "She didn't get disciplined?"

Sarutobi gave a faint grimace. "Probably should have... but it's like kicking a puppy. She suffered enough at the hands of the others without me formally cutting her down. Besides, I'm not convinced she was wrong. Hell, I started to let the bastards go myself after a while – and you know, maybe she was right? Mercy is just as good at winning a war as cruelty. The peace talks were pretty quick, after all, 'cause people tend to believe you don't plan to annex their country more easily if you let their soldiers return unharmed."

Minato nodded, contemplating this quietly. If Kushina had managed to influence her own superiors, that was pretty impressive. If the jonin nephew of the Hokage believed mercy had aided the war effort, that had to mean something, and not just that he had a spectacular crush on the girl in question. It all left Minato in a very uncertain position, however. He'd killed so many because he'd thought it necessary.

What if it hadn't been?

"It's normal to be subjected to a little hazing when you enter the fold, so watch out for that," Sarutobi went on blithely. "But they might make an exception for you, of course... you're probably the first chunin to become a legend before you became a jonin, after all."

"Great," Minato intoned.

They stopped at the base of the building, and since Sarutobi had led him here, this probably meant an end to his 'induction'. "That's all of the important stuff," he said to Minato. "It all becomes official in the ceremony, so I'll look forward to you joining us then."

"Thanks."

"Is... Kushina back in town yet?" Sarutobi asked with indiscreet hopefulness.

"Not that I know of," Minato said honestly. "I'll tell her you asked when she gets back. I'm sure she's just as eager to catch up with you too."

Sarutobi looked a little blank at this, and Minato wondered what he'd said wrong.

"Did Kushina really tell you about me?" he asked.

Minato schooled his expression. It wasn't like he'd lied and said Kushina spoke of him constantly, but he still felt a little deceitful. "Well, not much... you know how private she is."

"Since you're her friend, I guess I can tell you what happened between us," Sarutobi said. "Then when you see her, maybe you can talk to her for me..."

A tiny and oh-so-rarely exercised muscle contracted between Minato's eyebrows, creating something akin to a frown. "What happened?" he demanded. And Sarutobi took a deep breath.

* * *

The streets were quiet when Minato made his way home a few nights later, punctuated only occasionally by the odd "Congratulations!" from strangers who recognised him, or "You've done your mother proud!" That was nice of them, he thought, always disorientated how people could speak to them as if they knew him personally when he had never met them... or had else forgotten them. The latter was always a possibility. Kushina was very critical of his tendency to forget faces.

But now he was the youngest jonin ever. Already feared throughout the five nations. Short of becoming a kage, this was the highest rank any ninja could obtain, and he supposed there was some lofty satisfaction in his new title. Yet the hole that had opened inside him since leaving the border – leaving the _war_ – would not be satisfied by this much. He was a jonin in peacetime. What was the point of that?

He would feel better after going on some A-class or S-class mission, he reassured himself. For the past few weeks he'd been lacking appropriate stimulation, like an energetic dog locked up inside a house without even a game of scrabble to engage him. Now that the official ceremony was out of the way, he could finally get back to his purpose.

In the deepening dusk that crept through the village like a long shadow, Minato turned down the street where he lived and saw a light on in the house he shared with Kushina. Since she always scolded him magnificently if he wasted electricity, Minato was very conscientious about turning off lights before he left home, which could only mean one of two things – he'd made a mistake (which was very unlikely), or Kushina had returned. Suddenly he was walking faster, as if the energy that had slowly been sapped from him all day returned in a rush. The key clicked in the lock as he entered, and the most delicious smell hit him like a wave of heat. Kushina heard the door slam shut and poked her head out the kitchen. "Oh. You're back," she said, and he noticed she was wearing an apron dusted with white powder.

"You cooking?" he guessed.

Kushina's response was to disappear again.

"Did you have a nice mission?" he asked instead, heading towards the light of the kitchen. He didn't know what else to say. Hi. How are you doing? I'm a jonin now, by the way.

He looked through the door to see Kushina bent over the table. "Don't look!" she cried. "It's not ready yet!"

"What the-"

"Cover your eyes!"

It must have been some sort of unspeakable horror. Minato obediently clapped his hands over his eyes and promptly bumped into the doorframe. "What's going on?"

"You can't look," Kushina said, making a terrific noise as she tore around the kitchen. "It's a surprise."

"The good kind?" He didn't really want to be on the receiving end of one of her pranks. Word had it that Uchiha Fugu-face was still the butt of a lot of unflattering jokes.

"You'll find out," Kushina said, and he felt her floury hands grab his elbows in order to steer him across the floor. "Have a seat, but _don't_ peak or I'll kill you."

Ninja took death threats seriously, so Minato resisted the temptation to look through the cracks between his fingers. That delicious, sweet smell was strongest here, making his dry mouth water a little after a long day of eating nothing except for a bowl of boiled rice and vegetables from the cheapest booth in the market.

After a full suspenseful minute, wherein he could hear Kushina moving about at breakneck speed, he finally sensed her falling into the chair beside his. "Ok, you can open your eyes now."

Minato dropped his hands and looked.

In the middle of the table sat a plate, and upon this plate sat the pinkest cake he'd ever seen, trimmed with what he assumed was edible glitter and little red stars and sprinkles. Across the middle the word 'Jonin' was spelled out in cream that was only slightly smudged on the last letter.

He looked at Kushina, "Is this for me?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice.

"Duh!" She stared at him, ever so slightly anxious, awaiting his real reaction. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it back in time for your ceremony. It had already started when I arrived and they wouldn't let me in – Uchiha police on the door, _so it figures_ – and I was so annoyed I came back here and made a cake."

"Do you often make cakes when you're annoyed?" he wondered.

"No – this is a present!" she sighed. "To say I'm sorry I missed everything and... well... congratulations."

This caught Minato a little off-guard. He'd been convinced that he would be the one forced to apologise when she returned, for having not invited her to his ceremony, and yet here she was with a cake of apology. "Why the pink?" he asked.

"You said you liked pink..." she frowned. "Don't you like it?"

"I love it!" Oh how such small flippant lies came round to bit him. "Can I have a piece?"

"Duh," she said again, though more kindly. "It's _your_ cake, dummy."

And though it might not have looked like much, with its smudged dressing and homage to the pink spectrum, when Minato took his first cautious bite into the soft, moist sponge, taste buds he never knew had existed before sang out in joy. "Huh," he said, looking from the slice in his hand to the rest of the cake still on the table. _Relax,_ he warned. There was still plenty left. Except with every bite there would be less and less, and this cake was a once in a lifetime event; he needed to savour _every_ crumb. Kushina had very strict rules about self-sufficiency – she would undoubtedly never cook for him again, let alone bake a cake as delicious and saintly as this one.

"What?" Kushina looked worried. "Is it too sweet? O-Or maybe I think I dropped some eggshell, though it was only a little bit-"

"Kushina, this cake is the best thing I've ever tasted," Minato said, perfectly serious.

As always, Kushina looked suspicious. She never trusted compliments. "Don't be silly."

"No, really." Though he was loath the forfeit even a tiny scrap, Kushina needed to understand her ungodly talent. He broke off the corner of his cake slice and offered it to her.

Cautiously, Kushina accepted it. She chewed like a food critic – slowly and with a judgemental frown. "It's ok," she concluded. "Not bad for a first attempt."

"This is your first cake?" When she nodded, he decided then and there that she had to be some kind of prodigy. "If I pay you, will you make one of these for me every week?"

"Would you just shut up and eat it?" She laughed, blushing slightly. "Weirdo."

She couldn't possibly stop him. Minato pushed the rest of the slice into his mouth and reached for a second. His gluttony was evidently more trustworthy than his words, and Kushina looked pleased as he helped himself to more. "So, you're a jonin now. How does that feel?"

He shrugged, mouth full. Discussions about feelings had happily ended with the mental health assessments.

"You'll be getting all the big missions now, huh?" She drew a short nail in a loose circle on the table cloth. "Promise you'll be careful, ok?"

He smiled, glitter covering his chin. "You know me."

"Can't be any more dangerous than the war, I guess," she sighed, propping her chin in her palm. "But it seems like only yesterday you were standing there in the stadium, getting stabbed by that rain country assassin. I thought it was such a massive overreaction at the time – you were just as much as squirt as everyone else, even if you were ridiculously fast. But I can see why they were all scared then. Today, you'd make assassins like that wet themselves to think of taking you on."

"Aw." He said around a mouthful of the best cake on earth.

Kushina reached out absently and flicked a crumb off his cheek. "But you're not invulnerable, Minato, so just... be careful, ok?"

"I'm always careful," he promised.

"You can't let your guard down, even for a minute!" she said, raising her finger. "Not even in this village."

"Oh, come on, Konoha's pretty safe," he tried to remind her.

"There's plenty of creeps in Konoha too."

He nodded sagely. "You mean Inoichi."

"Inoichi is a sexual harassment fine waiting to happen," she said, "but he's harmless. I'm talking about _real_ freaks, Minato. Did you know people have been going missing from the village? A _baby_ disappeared about a month ago and no one knows what happened. And they weren't just civilians, they were _ninja_ like us."

"Weird," he hummed, eyeing the knife and entertaining the possibility of a third slice.

"So don't forget to lock all the doors and windows at night," she said. "You never know who's out there."

"Yes. Can I-?"

"Oh, go on." She passed him the knife, feigning exasperation, though in truth she looked smug. "I never knew you liked cakes so much."

"Neither did I," he said earnestly. He had never had much of a sweet tooth, but this hit all the right notes in his palate. "I bet Sarutobi would like some of this."

The secret smile dropped from Kushina's face. "What?"

"Sarutobi." He looked up at her. "He's back you know; turned up on the doorstep looking for you and _pretty_ disappointed that you weren't in."

"You... met him?" Kushina asked cautiously.

"Yeff," he said around his cake. "Forry"

"Did you... talk?"

Minato swallowed hastily. "Nah," he said, noting her relieved expression. "Although we did talk later when he was showing me around the jonin headquarters. He's really nice. Very friendly. Sounds like a good captain to have out in the field."

Kushina levelled him an even stare. "He is," she said coolly.

"He asked after you quite a lot," Minato mentioned, and she looked away from him. "Seems a little anxious to get in touch, actually. Things didn't end so well between you too or something?"

A deep scowl had settled on Kushina's face, and if she wasn't careful, her beautiful skin would be creased and crinkled prematurely with such abuse. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing," Minato lied flawlessly. "But I'm not an idiot. You said you were good friends, but it doesn't seem that way from where I'm sitting."

Kushina chewed her cheek angrily.

"What happened?" he asked. Even if he'd already heard it from Sarutobi, he knew that the one who needed to say it was Kushina herself.

"I think my sheets are done in the dryer. I should really go put them on my bed before I get too tired," Kushina said, beginning to get up.

Minato hooked his foot beneath the spoke of her chair and tugged it forward just enough to gently tumble her back into the seat. Her mouth dropped indignantly, ready to tear him a new one.

"Please tell me?" He widened his eyes and tilted his eyebrows up, which was unconsciously becoming, especially with all that icing around his mouth.

Kushina's resolve visibly wavered as she searched his face, then dropped her hands glumly into her lap. "Will you stop bothering me about him if I tell you?" she asked.

"Absolutely," he swore.

"Well... you know we were stationed on the border together," she began slowly. "I was in his unit and he was my captain."

"Yes," Minato said, slightly impatiently.

"We got on really well. He helped out a lot with sensei, you know? He was the one who pulled some strings back home to make sure there was always someone to check on him since I was away. And well... we got close."

Minato nodded, waiting for her to gather the courage to continue.

"Then... one day..." she said, with great effort, "he asked me to go out with him."

Minato nodded again and waited. "And then...?"

Kushina's eyes flashed up to meet his. "What do you mean '_and then'_? He asked me to go out with him!" she cried out.

"You said no?" he summised.

"What was I supposed to do?" she demanded. "Where the hell is one supposed to 'go out to' in the middle of a battlefield? How could he do that to me? We were getting along just fine, and then he had to go and ruin everything like that... I just... I could hardly look at him after that. I was glad to be sent home."

It was exactly as Sarutobi had said, but Minato was still baffled. "Don't you like him?" he asked.

"I like him fine," she blustered.

"But not enough to date him."

"I – well-" She blushed heavily, wringing her hands into interesting contortions. "I-I don't think I'm ready for that kind of stuff. Why couldn't we have just stayed friends? Why go and make things all awkward like that?"

He sighed and reached for the knife in order to offer her the forth piece of a cake which now only read 'Jo'. Kushina accepted it gratefully and stuffed it into her mouth, chewing violently in her misery.

"Sarutobi's a really nice guy, Kushina," he said, now that her mouth was occupied. "He's a jonin and a nephew of the Hokage – most people would consider him a real catch. And he hardly talks about anything _but_ you. Maybe you should give him a chance?"

She managed to swallow. "He's even older than Fugu-face," she complained.

"You can't tell," he promised.

"And why would he ask someone like me out anyway?" she demanded. "There were loads of prettier girls in our unit alone – why-"

"Because you're kind and smart and you're just as pretty as the prettier girls," he said. "You're quite a good catch yourself."

"I don't see anyone knocking down the door to ask me out," she said bitterly.

"Well, you're also kinda scary," he admitted. "But Sarutobi has obviously overlooked that so what are you waiting for?"

She fidgeted and diverted her gaze again.

"He's probably going to ask you again the next time he sees you," Minato said with some certainty, after all he'd _told_ Sarutobi himself not to give up. "So you might as well give it a go and see what it's like. If you _don't _like it, big deal, you can go home knowing you at least tried."

"But-"

"You shouldn't run from these things. It's just a waste of a good friendship otherwise... and you never know, you might be missing something really good if you turn your back on him now.

"Says you," she shot back accusingly. "I don't see you throwing yourself into any serious relationships, and I bet you have girls asking you out all the time."

"Not really." He'd honestly been approached very little by the fairer sex the more formidable his reputation seemed to grow. It was like they just sort of gave up hope after a while. "Besides, I already have a girlfriend."

Kushina's jaw dropped. "Wh – since when?" she cried.

"She's still on the border of the water country," explained Minato. "She's called Yoshi."

"You've never mentioned her," she said quietly, sounding like he'd winded her cruelly. Then she gave herself a shake. "If she's anything like Kagura, you can keep her to yourself."

"Will you give Sarutobi a chance?" he pressed.

"Don't pester me. I'll think about it," she said, which was another way of avoiding the answer.

* * *

It was hard to say how closely to heart Kushina had taken his words that night. He knew at least that she had yet to seek Sarutobi out, though she didn't seem to be deliberately avoiding him. She went about her regular daily routines, and when Minato went to the jonin headquarters, Sarutobi the younger could be seen distinctly _moping_ around the corridors like the miserable monkey he was. Every time he looked hopefully at Minato, Minato could only shrug hopelessly. It was up to Kushina to accept him, and there was only so much he would urge his friend towards a relationship she didn't want.

Retrospectively, however, Minato was quite glad he'd mentioned Yoshi to Kushina that night or else it would have been quite the shock when she turned up a few days later with an impassioned cry of "My Love!" and thrown herself into Minato's arms in full view of about four hundred shoppers and Kushina herself.

Instead of keeping an eye on the deployment rotary to see who was coming back from the frontlines this month, Minato had been busy waiting for a suitable A-class assignment to come up. That was his job now, after all, to look out for interesting missions and then form a team to accomplish them. Usually jonin took their old teams out – which in Minato's case meant Ai and Saburou – but he was pretty sure the purpose of taking familiar teammates would be defeated in this case, if his familiar teammates hated him. Saburou might have liked him, though it was hard to say since he still didn't _say_ anything. Perhaps he would be better off forming a new team of chunin? There were plenty of people to choose from, like Chichi – she was enormously useful with weaponry.

He could even take _Kushina_.

But such thoughts were swept from his mind that morning, when he was once again shadowing Kushina to the library; swept by the uncontrollable blonde whirlwind that was his alleged girlfriend, Yoshi.

"There you are!" she squealed, arms clamped around his neck like a drowning woman. "Oh, I've missed you _sooo_ much, you have no idea how boring and lonely it got out there without you!"

"Hello, Yoshi," he greeted, recalling that he actually knew next to nothing about this girl.

"And you're a jonin now too!" she gasped, her voice throbbing with admiration. "I don't believe it – you're so awesome!"

"Is this your girlfriend?" Kushina asked. She sounded almost hopeful, perhaps because she would be thoroughly disgusted if this was how everyone was expected to behave around him now. It would be a cold day in hell when Kushina greeted him as warmly as this.

"Kushina, this is Yoshi," Minato said, introducing the scowling girl to the one hanging from his neck. "Yoshi, this is Kushina."

"Kushina, that's such a pretty name," Yoshi breathed, and it was a good thing she instantly whipped back to Minato, for it looked as if Kushina was opening her mouth to give a sneering retort. "You're not busy are you, Minato? I was _sooo_ hoping we could hang out together!"

"Uh, sure." Minato looked at Kushina to check it was alright, but it wasn't like she'd invited him along to the library anyway; he'd invited himself. "I'll catch you later Kushina."

"Bye, Kushina!" Yoshi gave her a perfect hundred watt smile. Nothing about it rang as particularly disingenuous, other than that everything Yoshi said and did rang a little fake and forced, and Kushina looked back at her even more coolly.

"You two look very cute together," she said, although by the tone of her voice alone she may well have just spat on them.

Yoshi, oblivious to any awkwardness, looped her arm thought Minato's and wheeled him away. She planned to parade him on her arm through as many busy streets as possible and past the houses of her friends who had laughed when she'd told them the Yellow Flash was her boyfriend. He was her quintessential trophy. Of course, that didn't mean Yoshi was not in love. It was a fact that she had never been so smitten with anyone in her life and not only was she planning their wedding, she was picking out names for their children and planning _their_ weddings too.

It was also a fact that Minato could not remember Yoshi's last name, nor much of the time they'd spent together. As long as she didn't quiz him, he felt they would get along anyway. There were worse people to lean against his side, and stroke his hair, and kiss his cheek than a pretty blonde girl with the widest smile in the village and matching dimples. And if Yoshi noticed that he never stoked _her_ hair, or kissed _her _cheek, she didn't show it.

That evening, he retired home more fatigued than if he'd been battling mist nin for ten straight hours. If he'd ever thought he didn't know Yoshi well at the beginning of the day, he'd been soundly divested of all ignorance by the time the sun set. By then he knew the names of every single one of her grandparents and her menagerie of pets that included (but was not limited to): seven guinea pigs, five dogs, twenty-five canaries, three prize-winning hawks, a tank of uncountable stick insects, and one terrapin who may or may not have died some years ago since no one was willing to wade through the impenetrably murky pond water to see if it was still there.

So naturally, when Minato made it to the quiet solitude of the house he shared with Kushina, he heaved a zen sigh of relief and slunk to stretch out on the sofa and watch some mindless TV on mute. He hadn't missed television entertainment on the border, but now that he had it back, he felt somewhat honour bound to observe it for a few hours every day, to keep up with the world if nothing else.

The lock of the front door clicked at quarter to midnight, signalling that Kushina was home. Minato levered himself up to peer over the back of the sofa at the girl standing in the hall, placing her flat pumps meticulously on the shoe rack. "Nice day?" he asked.

"Have a nice time with Yoshi?" she asked in response. Her tone was about as dull as his own.

"Yeah, s'alright," he said with a shrug. He had no strong feelings about it one way or the other. Kushina looked up at him through the strands of crimson hair that had escaped her bun. Her mouth was pressed in a thin line. Annoyed? Or hungry?

"I left the last piece of the cake for you," he said, very generously.

"It's_ your_ cake," she shot back, then she added more virtuously, "and I'm on a diet."

The stack of chocolate bars under her bed begged to differ.

"Ok," he said. All the more for him, he supposed.

Kushina thumped into the living room. "What are you watching?"

"Dunno."

This was apparently a fascinating show, so Kushina decided to watch it with him. "Budge over," he said, tapping the legs occupying her end of the suite. She was only just beginning to sit down when there was a knock at the door.

Both Kushina and Minato looked at one another, stunned. They rarely got visitors, least of all at midnight, and it wasn't until the second knock that either of them reacted.

"Burglars," Kushina said at once, demonstrating she was nothing if not paranoid.

"Maybe it's something to do with work?" Minato said, a little more rationally. "Burglars don't knock."

"Sometimes they do, to make sure no one's in before they break the window," she whispered.

"Better go answer it then," he said.

Kushina slid across the dark room and back into the hall. There was a formidably shaped shadow looming against the small pane of frosted glass in the door, and Kushina crouched down to flip up the letterbox and peer out at their late-night visitor. Whoever it was made her gasp and leap back, staring at the door in frozen horror.

"Burglars?" he hissed, growing worried now.

She shook her head. "Much worse," she whispered fearfully.

"Hello?" said the stranger outside. "Kushina? Minato? Is that you?"

That sounded an awful lot like Sarutobi. "Aren't you going to answer it?" he asked Kushina, who flapped her hands angrily at him and pressed a finger to her lips pointedly. Minato rolled his eyes. "He already heard you opening the letterbox, there's no point pretending we're not in."

"Then you answer it! Tell him I'm not in!" Kushina whispered, retreating for the stairs.

Minato flopped back onto the sofa. "No," he said plainly. "He wants to speak to you, not me."

"Minato!" she gasped at him, hurt by his betrayal.

Right then, however, Minato was doing a good impression of not existing, abandoning Kushina to her fate. Given the choice of running upstairs and hiding beneath her bed with her chocolate, and confronting her former captain, it seemed Kushina was torn. He knew she wasn't a coward, although she certainly took several long seconds to scrape her courage together and reach forward to open the door.

"Saru!" she exclaimed, as if surprised to see him.

"Kushina!" Sarutobi returned, "I-I hope it's not too late, only I didn't see you get back till just a few minutes ago."

"Were you... staking out the house?" Kushina asked uncertainly.

"All day, yes," Sarutobi nodded. "I didn't know how else to find you."

Credit where credit was due, he had to be a damn good ninja if Minato hadn't been able to sense him moping about out there.

However, Kushina just looked worried. "What was so important that you needed to stalk my house?" she asked, as if dreading the answer.

Sarutobi sighed, perhaps already sensing his imminent defeat. "I know things have been awkward between us since I... spoke up at the border. I was hoping that at least things would return to normal between us, but I think it's safe to say that's not going to happen. And I can't stop thinking about you! It hurts me, Kushina, it actually physically hurts in my chest to think I've ruined everything."

This made vastly more compelling viewing than any soap opera on the TV set. Minato's act of non-existence was paying off rather well, as he doubted Sarutobi would say such impassioned things if he knew there was an audience. Kushina knew though, and she kept shooting the sofa nervous looks as she tried to placate her captain. "Don't misunderstand, Saru, I consider you one of my greatest friends."

"But you avoid me," he all but whimpered.

"Not intentionally," she lied outrageously.

"I don't understand, Kushina," Sarutobi shook his head, "I thought we were getting along really well. I thought you liked me."

"I _do_ like you!"

"I've never met another girl like you, Kushina, and I don't think I ever will. There is no one as kind as you, or as intelligent, or funny, or adorable as you. You made me open my eyes. When I imagine life without you it's like imagining life without the sun or the moon."

Minato thought he was overdoing it a bit.

So did Kushina. "Steady on, Ren," she mumbled.

"Do you understand how much you mean to me?" Sarutobi asked, reaching out to grasp her hands in his. Minato quite enjoyed the way Kushina stared at their joined limbs like the concept of handholding was entirely new to her. "I may be wasting my time here, but even if you cannot love me, at least be my friend. I need you in my life, even if you don't want to be with me."

"I-I don't know..." Kushina stammered. "Isn't that really awkward? I'm not sure I can just pretend to be friends with someone who loves me. It seems cruel to do that to you."

"Well, maybe you can give me a chance?" he asked. "Give _us_ a chance? I don't want to force you to do anything, but if you open yourself to the possibilities, would it be too much to hope you'll find a place in your heart for me in time?"

"Ren, I don't _not_ like you. I mean-" Kushina screwed up her face. "I do _like_ you."

"But not that way." He nodded sadly, loosening his fingers to drop her hands.

"No," she shook her head sharply again, refusing to let go. "I like you. I really like you a lot actually..."

"Kushina..." he sighed. Sarutobi's expression was like that of a man who was witnessing the descent of an angel from heaven.

"I-I just feel scared," she admitted. "I don't know how to be a girlfriend."

"We don't have to do anything serious," he pleaded. "Just... come to some movies with me. I'll take you to a club. We can go dancing! And singing! All I want is your company, Kushina, nothing more. I would die a happy man if I had nothing more than the honour of holding your hand."

Even Minato was feeling a little taken with Sarutobi, so it was no wonder that Kushina was staring at him, pink-cheeked and moist-eyed. "We can do those things," she whispered. "Just not the singing. You'll want to throw me out a window if you hear me sing."

Sarutobi laughed and it was a beautiful moment. The ice was breaking and Kushina was stepping up bravely to the possibility of love, just as Minato had hoped. Only the god Cupid could have known how he felt at that moment, in the pleasure in architecting a sweet and just romance between two worthy people. Minato decided he could add 'matchmaker' to his list of talents now, even though many would point out he had only given these two the lightest of nudges; they had done most of the work.

"So you'll be my girlfriend?" Sarutobi breathed.

Kushina, speechless at her own audacity, nodded mutely.

"Thank you," Sarutobi whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, _thank you." _He leaned forward and pressed a heartfelt kiss on Kushina's cheek while Minato smiled on beatifically. Then, Sarutobi slowed, the victorious smile softening as he looked into Kushina's eyes, his face close to hers. They were going to kiss, Minato realised, and slowly but surely they did, with only the slightest hesitant jerk backwards from Kushina before their lips touched chastely.

And as Minato looked on at the scene of his own doing, at the sight of young, earnest love beginning to bud, the smile began to fade from his face.

Though he didn't understand why... suddenly all he felt like doing was kicking Sarutobi in the face.

* * *

TBC


	13. The Body of Evidence

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Thirteen: The Body of Evidence

* * *

The occupation of a jonin was very much a sedentary lifestyle. It was the nature of the profession that jonin took fewer missions and longer holidays than the lower ranks (along with bigger paycheques), and it could be the case that in one week Kushina might go on three different assignments while Minato only took one if any at all. A-class missions weren't common, and S-class was even rarer. If Minato kept his ears pricked and stalked the headquarters vigilantly enough, he could usually snag a mission scroll as soon as it became available, though he preferred to take only the ones that sounded challenging – ones the other jonin were inclined to avoid anyway. These were the ones that made the long wait worthwhile.

The indolent weeks spent relaxing around the village were broken up by the occasional flurry of a hectic mission. It was in this was the ebb and flow that Minato began to settle, leaving behind the restlessness of his youth, and growing accustomed to a slower pace in his old age.

He was all of eighteen.

People had returned from the war in dribs and drabs. Yoshi had been followed by Shikaku, who walked into the village hand in hand with his own Yoshino, and looking a little like he regretted the whole thing. It was genuinely touching to see him reunite with the rest of his team, and a relief, for Shikaku's presence alone did a lot to temper Inoichi. If Danzou returned, Minato never saw him, though he later learned he'd gone straight back to commanding his underground ANBU division. There were no further attempts made on Minato's life... that he knew of.

And there was still no sign of Jiraiya returning.

Nevertheless, there were still more than enough people in Minato's life to keep him occupied and distracted (in the 'driven to distraction' sense). If it wasn't the Hokage calling on him for special missions, it was Yoshi tearfully begging him to help find her lost ferret no. 6. Then there was Yoshi's mother who needed to be kept in good graces, though she was much easier to please than her daughter, usually only calling on him to fix her television. She seemed to be under the impression he was an electrician.

'Saru' was far more problematic. Minato was fast running out of excuses not to go for a beer with him, since the guy was convinced that as two of the most important men in Kushina's life, they ought to bond in a manly fashion. But Minato thought that in the rankings of Important Men In Kushina's Life, Minato came a trailing fourth after little Kakashi, little Kakashi's dad, and Saru, in that order. And perhaps what was most annoying of all was that Saru even got along with Sakumo, which was something that had eluded Minato for most of his life.

But still, at the end of every day, Minato could go home to a quiet house where his only other companion was Kushina. Even if she was too busy studying in her room to say a word to him, it comforted him to see her every night... and nowhere near Sarutobi.

Yet some times were more trying than others, such as the day the Hokage called him to his office to hand him a mission personally – the kind that was too important to be recorded in a scroll.

"I'm giving you this mission," the Hokage said, "because to be frank with you I don't know what else to do. The situation has escalated into an emergency, and there are few I can trust these days."

Minato kept his expression neutral, though his heart always thudded with excitement in moments like this. The more challenging the mission, the happier he was. He accepted the honour of being the Hokage's few 'trusted' ones with a slight bow. "I am happy to serve you in any way I can," he said formally.

This always seemed to please the Hokage, but today he just gave a weak smile. "Another child has been taken; a newborn boy from the orphanage," the older man said tiredly. "It's the fifth this year. Overall seventeen people have gone missing since the end of the war, of various ages and gender, and the only thing they have in common is that they are shinobi or from families of shinobi. Possibly even more have been taken during the war itself which were wrongly chalked up as casualties."

Over seventeen people? Why had Minato not heard of this? "You think someone is taking our people?" he asked. "Could it be the Kumo nin? They've been known to take people before-"

"This is not the work of another village," the Hokage interrupted. "We believe this is the work of an individual from Konoha. This could be a serial killer."

Some of the excitement began to fade for Minato. "Isn't this more a case for the police?" he wondered.

"The police have found nothing. It's likely that this is the work of high level ninja, and so I'm going to send the best after him. I demand your discretion, Minato. If word got round there was a shinobi killer on the loose there would be panic. I don't want a paranoid population, nor do I want him to start hiding his tracks the moment he realises the Yellow Flash is after him."

"I understand," Minato said heavily, wishing the Hokage had asked someone else. He preferred taking his missions abroad, seeing new sights and meeting/killing new people. Traipsing around the village maintaining law and order was something the Uchiha were employed to do.

"You'll probably need help," the Hokage said, leaning back in his chair until it creaked. It was probably as old as the man sitting in it. "I recommend Ren."

It was getting worse. "Another jonin?" Minato asked incredulously.

The Hokage began to frown. "This is a serious matter. I don't expect you to treat this lightly."

"Yes, sir," Minato said quickly. He hated when the Hokage looked at him like that, like for all his fancy titles and status as a prodigy, the old man could squish him like a bug if he suspected Minato was in danger of disappointing him.

"I'll give you a list of all the victims and their families, including the latest child. Make your reports directly to me only," said the Hokage. "And I pray you find the fellow before he takes anyone else."

So, under strict orders of secrecy and discretion, Minato went straight home and told Kushina all about it.

"That's awful!" she gasped, huddling a tiny guinea pig closer to her chest. He'd found her sitting in the garden, playing with the young rodents Yoshi had given her last week from an unexpected litter. He hadn't thought Kushina liked animals much, but though she insisted they were only to keep the grass short and give Kakashi something to torture when he visited, she spent an awful lot of time fussing over their bald ears and imitating their squeaky chunnering. "I heard some people had gone missing, but I had no idea it was so many. And those poor babies! God, I'd love to string up the guy who did this and pull his gizzards out with the sharp end of a hammer."

"Yeah, well, I don't know what the police are playing at if they haven't caught him yet," Minato sighed, holding a dandelion leaf for second guinea pig in its pen.

"They're Uchiha," Kushina snorted dismissively. "What do you expect?"

"Not to have to tidy up after them." His guinea pig tugged the rest of the leaf clean out of his hand and scrambled back into its house to eat in peace. Minato sighed and pulled out the piece of paper folded inside his vest. "These are all the people who've gone missing."

Kushina leaned over. Cool, silky strands of red hair fell across his hand and the paper. "I know that one," she said, pointing to a name. "She's a chunin. I thought she got moved sideways or something."

"Apparently not – hey!" The guinea pig was back, reaching through the chicken wire to nibble at the corner of the paper.

"Don't shout at Yellow Flasher," she scolded.

"If you're going to name your guinea pigs after me, at least get the name right," he sighed. "It's not Flasher, it's-"

"How come that guy doesn't have a family name?" Kushina interrupted blithely, pointing at the paper.

Minato followed her gaze to the last name on the list. The victim was known only as 'Tenzou'. "One of the infants taken from the orphanage," he said. "Whoever it is, they're picking victims who aren't likely to be missed. Orphans, loners, those from war zones..."

"Sad..." Kushina murmured. "Though at least you'll be safe. If you went missing there would be a national day of mourning declared within five minutes."

"That's nice," he said, smiling faintly. "I'll bear that in mind next time I pop to the shops without telling anyone. But remember, you're not allowed to tell anyone about this."

"I'm sure everyone I'd tell already knows, if Saru's going to work with you and Mikoto's married to the chief of police." She shot him a mischievous grin. "In fact, Fugu-face probably has all the info you want to find a lead. You're going to have to kiss up to him if you want him to help."

"I could always send you," he suggested idly, and added a soft "Ow," when she punched his arm.

Kissing was surplus to requirements, as it turned out, not that getting Uchiha Fugaku to hand over all the relevant information and leads was in any way easy. The military police had a whole different system and ethos to the shinobi, and anyone would think Minato was demanding the chief of police hand over rights to his firstborn the way he reacted when Minato –politely- asked for copies of evidence.

"You think you can just walk in here and do a better job than us?" Fugaku demanded. Minato had not suffered so many hostile stares since he'd infiltrated a Mist outpost and tried to kill their leader. "We've been trying to track this guy for over a year – _what_ could _you_ possibly do?"

"I'm only obeying the Hokage's orders," Minato said diplomatically. He had no interest in stealing credit, and in all honestly he doubted he would get any closer to apprehending the target than a whole squad of military police whose reputations had been on the line for months.

"You can tell that old codger where to stick his orders!"

Minato frowned ever so slightly. That had sounded a little... mutinous. Perhaps Fugaku realised that too, for he suddenly gave a tut of annoyance and turned away to gesture curtly at one of his subordinates. "Give him the files," he grunted, before striding away. "He can take it from here if he's so damn full of himself. Let's see how long it takes for the little kid to get bored of adult work."

That was what one got for wilfully associating oneself with a known enemy of the military police: Uzumaki Kushina. With a strained smile, Minato accepted the pile of paperwork graciously and decided to forget the tone Fugaku had taken about the Hokage. There was a lot of reading to get through if he wanted to get things rolling tomorrow, and so he went straight home with every intention of letting Kushina distract him.

Unfortunately for Minato however, the smell of delicious cooking greeted him the moment he stepped in the door and he was confronted with the sight of two plates on the kitchen table. His heart fell. It was too much to hope this was one of the extraordinarily rare occasions when Kushina threw the house rules to the wind and made enough dinner to share it with him. The last time she'd done so had been for his birthday, and since this wasn't his birthday and Kushina was wearing Saru's favourite perfume, Minato knew this effort was not for his own benefit.

With a put upon sigh he slunk up to his room and locked the door, consigning himself to another long night of pretending he didn't exist.

These nights were the worst.

And no amount of feeble concentration on timelines and missing person reports stopped him from hearing the punctual knock on the front door at eight or the cheerful chatter downstairs as Kushina greeted her boyfriend. Minato wondered if he should just put himself out of his misery and stuff some cotton wool in his ears, but his inner masochist was straining its ears to catch every muffled word. That low mumble sounded something like "You look nice," or was it "You smell nice"? It was hard to tell when his bedroom door was closed.

_Ok,_ he told himself as he got up and silently went to leave the door ajar, _It's only because I need some fresh air._

"_...they're lovely,"_ he could now hear Kushina saying. _"I'll go find a vase..."_

Not more flowers! Did Saru appreciate that _some_ people had very acute hay fever? None of them lived in this house, but _still._ It was terribly thoughtless of him.

"…_how was your mission...?"_

"_Not so bad. How's your uncle?"_

"_You know..."_

Then there was the faint but detectable sound of smacking lips. Minato really did cover his ears at that point, however briefly, until he heard Kushina laugh and complain about a mouth ulcer. That would slow Romeo down, at least. It was when he heard the sound of his own name that he gave up all pretence of work and leaned towards the door for a better angle.

"_...upstairs, working. You're supposed to be going on a mission together, right?"_

"_Really?"_

"_That's what he told me."_

"_Probably some mistake... unless my uncle forced him into it."_

"_..."_

"_I see."_

Kushina said something in response, but she'd deliberately lowered her voice. No amount of straining or indiscreet leaning was enough to overhear her when she adopted her gossip tone, so Minato dropped his pencil on the desk and silently crept out onto the landing outside his room. He had to be careful. The floorboards in Kushina's house bore an uncomfortable resemblance to the nightingale floors that warlords had lined their houses with in the feudal era, so named because when stepped on they squeaked and chirped like a bird, alerting everyone else in the house of a trespasser's presence. Kushina's, however, sang less like nightingale and honked more like sea lions. Minato had to summon a great deal of chakra to his feet to balance his weight to avoid giving himself away, but by leaning over the banister he could see directly into the kitchen – just about enough to see Sarutobi's back.

"...can't take it personally," he could now hear Kushina muttering. "He's like that with everyone."

"Not with you," Saru pointed out. He'd adopted Kushina's low tone as well.

"Maybe you're trying too hard?" she wondered quietly. "Minato gets a lot of suck-ups. If you try being too friendly, he'll ignore you."

"But I thought we got along fine when we met. Then... you know. The blanking started." He didn't say any more than that, leading Minato to believe this was a topic of conversation that the two had already exhausted many times before. "I don't know what I said or did..."

"I told you, you can't take it personally," Kushina admonished. "He got more withdrawn after the war. You know what it's like, Ren. The war ruined a lot of people."

Minato didn't consider himself 'ruined' in any sense, and he had a certificate from the psychiatric division to prove it. Granted, it wasn't a _glowing_ reference of mental health, to have your mind rubber stamped with a grudging rating of 'Adequate', but he was a far cry from being stuffed in a rubber room to be looked at by doctors through a tiny window for the rest of his life like some veterans were.

"I still think he has something against _me_..."

"You're being paranoid. Minato speaks well of you when you're not around," Kushina said, which was the truth only in the sense that Minato regularly lied to her. He only praised Saru because Kushina would kick him out the house and give his room to her boyfriend if he didn't.

"How come he gets along with you so well?" Saru asked, clearly exasperated.

"I don't think I'm that special to him, Ren," she said dismissively. "If he didn't live here and didn't see me every day, he'd probably forget me pretty quickly too."

Minato's forehead hit the banister – cushioned by the back of his hand to avoid the telltale crack of skull against wood that would alert the couple downstairs. He didn't know why it hurt when Kushina said such things about him, and why her flippancy cut a little deeper every time. It seemed that no matter what, he had and never would be able to convince her that she meant more to him than a random stranger on the street.

Sarutobi's sigh echoed from the kitchen. "I suppose..."

"Just look at his girlfriend," Kushina went on. "She's pretty die-hard, but even she's going to ditch him soon because he hardly looks at her. So don't be such a dork. You're not special because Namikaze Minato won't let you get close to him – that's everyone's story."

Their conversation paused, and from the sound if it, Kushina was snapping her loose hair back into a ponytail.

"If it's getting in the way, why don't you just cut it?" Sarutobi suggested.

"...do you think that would suit me?"

"You'd be gorgeous even if you were bald. But I think you'd look pretty cool with something more practical."

"I'll think about it."

And hopefully she'd dismiss his suggestion entirely. Kushina, cutting her hair off? What a stupid idea. It was one of her best features!

But now the couple downstairs were returning to a normal conversational volume as the subject moved over trivialities – hairstyle, food, energy saving light bulbs. Minato quickly realised there was nothing interesting left to overhear and so returned to his room. Yet one look at the mound of paperwork was not enough to tempt him to return to it. He moved restlessly between his bed and his desk, and every time he heard a bark of laughter from the kitchen it was like another pin being driven into his back.

Not interested in needlessly torturing himself, Minato cracked open his old window and stepped lightly onto the window ledge outside. The guinea pigs were squeaking merrily in their enclosure below – and promptly fell silent when his shadow dropped down beside them. From there he vaulted the fence into the alley beyond and set off in search of something to take his mind of Sarutobi's stupid laugh and Kushina's critical words.

Perhaps what stuck out to him most was the idea that Yoshi was planning to ditch him. He hadn't sensed anything wrong in their relationship, but then maybe he hadn't been looking closely enough. His aimless meander through the evening gained a goal, and he slipped away through the quiet streets till he came to the white house were Yoshi and her family lived, every window shining with light and activity.

When he knocked on the door, it was Yoshi's little sister who answered; a miniature version of her big sister who only came up to his waist. The second she saw him she took a deep breath and began reciting the list of everyone's activities. "Mom's at the pachinko parlour, Big Big Sis is on the phone, Big Sis is in her room, and Little Brother is in bed."

"And you're answering the door," he pointed out.

"Guh." The little girl rolled her eyes and disappeared into the house. "YOSHI!"

"WHAT?"

"YOUR _BOYFRIEND'S_ HERE!"

Minato heard a crash from the upper floor. Yoshi burst out onto the landing above – one curler still tangled stubbornly in her hair. "Minato!" she gasped, smiling her two hundred watt smile. "You don't normally visit this late, what's going on?"

"Hey," he greeted, ignoring her rather accusatory question. The young sister flounced off back to the living room the resume her cartoons, and in the kitchen he could hear Yoshi's older sister chattering away so fast her only pauses were to catch her breath. A cat was curled up on the cooker in there, and the parakeets were vying with the TV in who could make the most noise.

Coming to Yoshi's house was always a little overwhelming. His childhood home had been a cold, dusty place where the silence was rarely broken. But nothing in Yoshi's house ever sat still.

"Come up to my room," Yoshi said, gesturing for him to follow. It was easier said than done, as this involved negotiating his way past two more cats and one dog who always growled threateningly when she saw him, even if she didn't bother getting up. Minato was quite happy to get inside Yoshi's room and shut the greyhound out, for the only beast he had to contend with in here was Yoshi's pet hamster, Sweetpea. Up until this point, he had never actually seen Sweetpea, which seemed to mean he'd only ever visited this room in the daytime. Right now, however, the little golden rodent was whizzing around in her wheel like she was hoping to build up enough charge to break out.

"Was there something you needed?" Yoshi asked, hastily tugging out the last curler she'd just glimpsed in the mirror.

"Not really," he said, absently picking up the pair of panties on the bed.

Yoshi snatched them out of his hand with an embarrassed giggle. "I-I wasn't expecting you," she stammered, throwing them under the covers. "Did something happen...?"

"No, not really," he said again. She looked at him searchingly, like there had the be _some_ unusual reason he'd turned up tonight. Apparently just dropping by to say hello to his girlfriend had completely baffled her.

"You... want something to eat?" she wondered cautiously.

Minato thought of Kushina and Sarutobi, sitting over their private candlelit dinner in the kitchen, probably doing something sickening like feeding each other. Neither of them caring what became of Minato, or if he starved to death. "Nah, I'm fine," he said, looking around her room. Yoshi had one of those old Kunoichi Icon albums lying open on her desk. If one were to peruse through it, one would find Minato's mother on pages five through twelve, or so many of his male friends delighted in telling him.

"Want to... make out?" Yoshi asked.

"I thought we could just talk," he said, watching her bite her lip in what some might have called disappointment.

"I guess." Yoshi slumped down onto the bed, fingers twiddling nervously with a lock of perfectly curled blonde hair. "Um... how are Kushina's guinea pigs?"

"They're still alive," he admitted, feeling this was quite an accomplishment.

"That's good," she said, nodding with false enthusiasm. "She may not look it, but Kushina's quite a caring person really, isn't she?"

"Mm," he hummed dubiously. To him, it had always been pretty apparent that Kushina cared a hell of a lot about almost everything, from how much fabric conditioner he used to industrial deforestation. There was plenty of room between all those issues for a couple of guinea pigs. "She thinks you're going to dump me."

Yoshi's eyes flew wide. "W-What? She said that to you?"

Not to _him_, exactly, but Minato wasn't going to give seed to a new reputation as an eavesdropper. "She said it."

"I – wh – I'm." Her jaw clicked shut for a moment. "Of course not. Unless... you want to break up. Is that what you're saying?"

If that was what he was saying, Yoshi didn't seem too choked up about it. She looked at him, merely curious and a little confused, but nowhere near upset at the idea as he thought someone who was committed to a relationship would be. Though neither did he find himself too troubled by it either.

This was a bad sign, wasn't it?

* * *

Just as Minato feared, there was absolutely nothing unusual about this place. There was nothing in this room to suggest that two nights ago an infant had been removed from the cot in the corner and hadn't been seen since. Any trail the abductor might have left had been soundly obliterated by the oafish police investigation who apparently were not content to let anyone into the scene of the crime until they'd trampled everything and contaminated anything that might have been useful.

"Why would someone take a child as small as that?" Saru was thinking out loud behind him, looking at the condensed notes Minato had handed him that morning.

"Plenty of reasons," Minato drawled, running a finger along the edge of a changing table. This nursery had hosted at least half a dozen children here, but they'd all been removed to other facilities. There really was no logical reason why... with all the attention this place was now under, it was probably the safest place in the village. Which also meant the most useless to Minato's mission. "There's a black market for little children, isn't there? Illegal adoptions and stuff."

"That doesn't explain the adults that have gone missing," Saru pointed out.

"No kidding," Minato said coolly.

Saru flipped the papers over. "Seems that the kids are our best lead, Minato-kun," he said. "We're never going to trace the guy before he strikes again. The best we can hope for is to wait and catch him in the act."

"There are hundreds of people who could be targeted next," Minato pointed out. "There's no way to watch everyone."

"Yes, but look at the patterns," Saru said, showing him the list of names and pictures of those who had already been taken. "All the children come from orphanages, and if the trend continues, he'll come looking for more. How many orphanages does the village have? Three? Four? They're way easier to keep an eye on."

Saru was at his most irritating when he was right. "We should enlist some chunin to watch-"

"No, that'll just scare him off," Saru interrupted. "He has to think the children are unprotected or he won't come. If he sees a bunch of chunin guarding the orphanages, he'll stick to taking adults, and we _can't_ watch every adult in the village."

"How do you propose to set a trap then?" Minato asked, trying to maintain a perfectly neutral, even tone.

"Well I've got some summons. Monkeys. They're pretty good watchdogs actually."

"And far less conspicuous than chunin," Minato said dryly.

"They can be more discreet than you'd think," said Saru. "If I take watch of two orphanages, you can take care of the other two. I'm sure you have jutsu to handle it."

"Naturally." Summons would have been handy, but Jiraiya had never gotten round to introducing him to animal contracts. All he had was Hiraishin, which meant he could theoretically place tags around his chosen buildings and be able to sense who was coming and going every minute of every hour. However, the drawback was that he could not do this in his sleep, and he'd learned from long sentry duties on the border that the longer he was connected to the tags, the more fatigued he got.

"I can have my summons cover all the orphanages if you like?" Saru said politely, correctly realising that Minato's repertoire of jutsu did not cover situations like this.

"I'll be fine," Minato all but snapped, and was grateful they went their separate ways. No doubt Saru went crying to Kushina that Minato was being an unfair playmate, for when he got home that night after decorating two orphanages in tags, Kushina kept scowling at him like he'd kicked the Yellow Flasher across the garden.

Having not had a brilliant day, and with his mind almost literally in thirty different places, Minato wasn't in such a great mood either.

So when Kushina was examining herself in the bathroom mirror and called, "I was thinking of cutting my hair."

He responded, more succinctly than he should have, "You'd look stupid."

After a tense pause he heard the wooden handle of Kushina's brush hit the sink. "Is that right?" she yelled. "Is that what you thought about me when I was young? Kushina – the stupid looking girl with weird hair! You're more like those bullies than you realise, Minato, you ass-"

He slammed his bedroom door shut, but this didn't stop her shouts; it only muted them.

"And don't you _dare_ slam doors in this house! If you can't be civil, you can pack your bags and _get out!_"

This could have been rhetorical only, for she certainly didn't barge into his room and throw him some empty suitcases in a pointed manner. Instead she stomped to her own room and slammed her own door, which she was allowed to do for some reason.

Things became markedly more unfriendly after that. As in the usual way of things, Minato didn't think _he_ was being the unreasonable one, but it was hard to tell when his every third thought was interrupted by something happening on the other side of the village, and he had to wonder if the new presence that had entered the east wing of the second nursery in the Little Buds orphanage was someone who was supposed to be there or a thief come to take another child for nefarious purposes. It got a little easier, as he began to recognise the usual presences, from the cleaners to the staff to other foster parents on scheduled visits. Even so, Minato was exhausted after just one week. He didn't know what a single one of these children looked like, but he could recognise his or her chakra signature better than his own after a fashion.

He took to sleeping during the day, rationalising that all abductions had taken place at night so it was vital that he remain alert and awake during this time. The unsociable hours did nothing to improve his mood. Appetite was difficult enough to come by when fatigued, but food was even scarcer. No shops or cafés opened at night, and the bottom half of the fridge where he normally stored his grub grew worryingly barren. When Kushina pointed this out to him, all he did was grunt. It was not endearing enough to make her cook for him, but at least she didn't say anything when he raided her side of the fridge.

The worst of it was when he was woken up to the ringing of a doorbell in the middle of the day and a much more relaxed and chipper Sarutobi showed up to shower his beloved with flowers and pollen. Listening to them laugh and chat was terribly frustrating when he was too tired to slip out the window. It was even more so when everything went quiet and he had no idea what they were doing down there...

That was when he started having the strange dreams. Some were deceptively lucid, such as when he kept feeling his father was in the room, sitting beside his bed, just out of sight. There were dreams about Jiraiya coming home, as tall as a house and as grizzly as a fir tree, and those were the dreams that made him ache when he woke to realise it wasn't true. Then there was Ai, dropping sticky things in his hair and making him angry – though in dreams he suddenly knew exactly what to say to make her sorry.

The dreams of his mother were a little more disturbing. He didn't know her, so when she appeared to him it was not as a mother, but as the sensual kunoichi who smiled back at him from the retro calendars and kunoichi albums, her body wrapped in nothing but scrolls and red ribbon. Then sometimes it would be Kushina dressed like that, and those dreams were always too short.

One evening he woke up to someone's cool hand against his brow. Before he opened his eyes and truly remembered where he was, he thought it was Yoshi; she was the only one who touched him like that. Sometimes when he went to her house he fell asleep to the feel of her stroking his hair like he belonged in her menagerie. Perhaps this was one of those times?

But when he looked up, it was Kushina he saw, staring down at him with her whirlpool eyes full of unapologetic concern. "You need to take a break," she said. "You've been at this for three weeks."

"I'm fine," he croaked. His most immediate concern was that she was in his room. He really hoped it didn't smell.

"I think maybe you should let Ren take over," she said carefully. "You're just exhausting yourself. You're not cut out for this kind of thing."

"Not as good as Ren, huh?" he murmured, not quite fully awake. His consciousness was already flitting between his tags till the piece of him that remained in this room barely registered. "That must soothe his ego. He's better than the Yellow Flasher."

"Flash," she corrected. "And you're the one with the ego problem, not him. If you'd just admit that-"

"I'm fine," he grunted, knocking her hand off his forehead. She was treating him like a sick man when he was only groggy because she'd woken him up. Everyone had the right to be groggy when woken after only three hours sleep.

Kushina never gave up so easily. "Minato, I'm worried you're not eating." She would know; everything he ate came out of her fridge and she must have been monitoring it for a while now. "You don't _look_ well."

"Would you give over?" he groaned. "You sound like you're auditioning to be my mother."

"I think you need one sometimes," she chided. "Yoshi hasn't been round at all. Did you break up with her or something?"

"Eh..." He was too tired to think.

"Minato, you're being reckless. _Why_ are you pushing yourself so hard over this?"

"Babies," he said, letting his eyes fall shut again. "Think of the children, Kushina."

Sharp fingers seized his cheek and pinched hard. "Ow!" he cried, almost lurching upright. Whatever else, he was certainly awake now. "What was that for?"

"Don't jerk me around," she threatened, showing him her nails and that she was armed and willing to use them again if necessary. "Why is it so important to make a fool of yourself?"

He didn't answer. He didn't _know_ the answer... or perhaps he was a little afraid of it. If he didn't think about it, it couldn't scare him, so he simply lay there listlessly, making no attempt to enlighten her as to why he loathed her boyfriend and absolutely would not cede an inch of responsibility to him if he could help it.

Kushina waited, her face growing stormier until she finally gave a growl of annoyance. "Fine," she ground out, pushing herself to her feet. "Be that way."

"Wait." He instinctively reached for her. Though he missed her wrist, she stopped anyway. "You don't have to go. Please stay."

Ever so slowly and cautiously she sank back down onto the bed, eyes narrowed on him. They were extremely dark in this low light. He couldn't tell which was blue and which was green or if they'd changed again like they sometimes did. He watched her watching him, until he realised she was waiting for a reason to stay that he could not give. "Never mind," he grumbled.

She stood and left, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary.

Too tired to rise, he lapsed back into sleep. His strange dreams pursued him, only this time he thought he was seven inches tall and lived in a hutch in the garden. Kushina was there, feeding him dandelions and stroking his bald ears, and he was deliriously happy... until someone called her name and she was walking away, leaving him frantic. He couldn't go after her with such an enormous wall of chicken wire in the way. She couldn't even hear his squeaks. She'd gone completely.

With the smoothest of transitions, he went from the pen to the nurseries. He dreamed about them a lot. With so many active tags bombarding his brain with information at all times, it was hard for even his subconscious to ignore them. The children were there, but where was Kushina? There was only that horrible, cold shape oozing through the open window. He wanted to ignore it and keep looking for her, but something about the room was changing. The chakra signals were flaring. His heart was pounding.

It wasn't right. Something horrible was happening, but he couldn't understand...

Air rushed noisily into his lungs as he threw himself up off the bed and stumbled blindly into his own dresser. Hands shaking. Feet failing. Where were his weapons? His scrolls? _There was no time for this._

He activated his jutsu and almost stumbled head first into a pebble dashed wall. It took him a moment to realise he was outside the community centre... the same one Kushina had lived in during her first years in Konoha. The tag he'd placed on the wall shone white beneath the moon, but he was more interested in the open window to its left. This was the one he'd seen in his dream. The lock that had held it secure was broken clean off.

Minato gripped the lintel and pulled himself inside. He dropped to the floor between two cots of sleepy, snuffling infants. Somewhere else in the dark room one was fussing and another was crying in low, quiet moans. There was something else in here too, shuffling and scraped along the floor within the shadows that pressed in around him. Minato could smell it. The familiar stench filled his nostrils and at once he inexplicably recalled the memory of the butcher house in the Mist outpost; he could see the mutilated carcasses of his former comrades hung on hooks and over tables like slabs of putrid meat as if they were right before his eyes again.

"Oi," he said, his voice still rough from sleep. "You better stop right there, or you're a dead man."

The gloom cleared as his eyes adjusted, and ahead of him he could see the tall, ragged outline of a figure leaning over a crib in the far corner. Deaf to Minato's warning, the shape simply stared at the infant within. Unmoving. Utterly silent.

"Step away from that kid," Minato said more loudly, summoning a little chakra to his fingers in anticipation. If he tried reaching for the baby, Minato would cut his hands clean off.

To his own detriment, the intruder ignored him. His lumbering form turned awkwardly, groping towards another cot.

Minato wouldn't give him the chance to reach it. He shot forward and seized the man's arm, wrenching him one way as he slammed a foot against his knee. The intruder lurched, but didn't fall – something that defied gravity was keeping him up. Minato wheeled back to avoid ending up on the floor instead.

No good, he thought to himself, backing off. This wasn't a good place to stage a fight. One disastrous move and one of the children in the nearby cots could be hurt badly. Did this oaf care? He swung his arms lethargically, no precision or care behind his wild strikes. Easy to dodge, but they had to relocate, and quickly.

Minato spotted the window furthest away from any of the cots and began to focus his strategy, dancing around every laboured, clumsy blow the man tried to land on him. He slapped a tag on the arm as it flew past him, and in the mile wide opening it left behind he surged up, crashing his shoulder into the stinking lump of a man, driving him back towards the window.

Glass shattered across the floor. Curtains flapped and moonlight struck the stirring forms of the children as their voices rose in a chorus of distress. The intruder reeled dimly but refused to go down. Minato pulled back and charged again with a cry, throwing all his weight and chakra into toppling the brute and his dead weight through the open space. With a final shove they fell. Thorny weeds and broken glass bit into Minato's side as he hit the ground outside.

His opponent was already stumbling away, faster than his awkward limbs dictated he should be able to move. He jerked and scampered across the playground like an overgrown spider, crashing into slides and over a seesaw – but never once falling. It was a queer sight. Minato stared transfixed at this unnatural figure, unable to understand how such a person could be responsible for the disappearances of so many nin.

Now his quarry was in danger of getting away. Minato saw thick arms reaching for the fence, readying to pull himself over and disappear into the trees beyond, along with any hope of ending the abduction spree. He activated his tag and closed the distance in a roar of wind, sliding across sand and gravel to knock the man's feet out from under him.

It was impossible. Minato _saw_ both feet lose their ground. But the man never fell. He was positively levitating. With a groaning shuffle the intruder turned to stare down at Minato, and for the first time he saw the face of the one who had taken so many people.

This was the face of Tsuge Kazuma. A totally unremarkable chunin except for the fact that he'd disappeared over two years ago, to be listed as one of the first possible victims of the abductions. The pallid, waxy complexion and glassy eyes could not disguise who he was.

Stunned, Minato almost missed the devastating punch that came flying at him. He rolled away in a shower of dirt and grit and sprang to his feet behind Kazuma. Swift kicks aimed behind his knees once again failed to take him down. Minato was fast losing patience.

"_Go down!_" he yelled hoarsely, as the former chunin turned in a slow, grinding circle to face him. Minato ducked beneath another wallowing blow and closed the distance between them. His fist smashed against a clammy jaw, snapping his opponent's head around with an audible crack.

Kazuma swayed. He crashed to the ground like a felled tree without ever uttering a word or a cry.

In the silence that followed, Minato massaged his knuckles and looked down at the man. There were no signs of life now. No breathing. No heartbeat. No movement. He bent down to press two fingers to the pulse point in Kazuma's neck, but eh felt nothing. The heart had been stopped. Slowly, Minato pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes and exhaled shakily.

He'd messed up again, killing when he should have stayed his hand. How the hell was he supposed to find the other missing people after permanently silencing the only lead?

"What's going on?"

Another person was pulling himself over the gate and running towards him. Saru, accompanied by the loping figure of a small capuchin monkey. "Is that him?" he asked as he came to a panting stop next to Minato.

This was the last thing he needed. "What are you doing here?" he asked. He found it difficult to believe Sarutobi had just happened to be passing by at this hour.

"I... had my summons watching this place too." Sarutobi gestured to the monkey clambering up his back. "They saw someone breaking into the nursery so I came as quickly as I could."

And thus Minato learned he had just wasted three weeks of his life. "Well, you're too late," Minato said harshly. "He's dead."

"He's dead?" Saru repeated dumbly. He dropped to one knee beside the body, running his hands over it. "You killed him? We needed to interrogate him."

Minato had heard this all before. Irritated with himself and Saru for just plain existing, he turned away and began to examine his own mild injuries. "His neck broke. I didn't even hit him that hard," he said, plucking a piece of broken glass from his arm. He hissed a soft curse when blood began flowing free in warm streams.

Sarutobi was scowling at the body in thought. "Hold on," he said quietly, pulling back the collar of the dead man's vest. "Take a look at this."

Reluctantly, Minato glanced over. Beneath the clothing, Sarutobi had exposed some extraordinary wounds stitched up gracelessly like the work of a three-year-old surgeon. Perhaps what was more interesting than the cuts themselves was the arrangement of the marks. They'd both seen this before, somehow, somewhere.

"Looks like he's been autopsied," Minato said, frowning at the distinctive Y shaped incisions that started beneath the collarbones and extended down the middle of the chest.

"Minato, I don't think you killed this guy," Saru said, glancing up at him. His expression was taut with disgust. "He's been dead for a _long_ time."

Minato decided to blame his exhaustion for his lack of comprehension. How could the guy have been dead any longer than a few minutes? Minato had just _fought_ him. "He's one of the chunin who went missing," he said thickly.

"Then," said Sarutobi slowly, "I guess this means we now know what happens to the victims."

* * *

The office was too bright for Minato's eyes. Instead of standing straight and tall like his partner, he found himself unable to stop from slouching and squinting about the room like a woodlouse that hadn't seen daylight in weeks, which was quite an accurate description considering.

Now that the tags were deactivated and he was no longer spreading himself thin to keep a constant watch over two orphanages, all that he could see and hear was once again limited to his immediate surroundings. His senses had apparently decided to handle this by magnifying everything, until every voice made him wince, every smell made him gag, and every movement made his clothes feel like sandpaper grating on his skin. Minato had never had a serious hangover, but if there was such a thing, this was probably what it felt like.

"It had to have been some kind of puppet," Sarutobi was telling his uncle, while Minato did his best to remain upright. "Every single organ in his body had been removed. There's no way he could have been alive to fight Minato tonight."

"Then who is pulling the strings?" The Hokage asked.

Sarutobi sighed. "We don't know, Uncle. Whoever's been taking these people, he's probably been using proxies like this to avoid being caught. There's no way to trace who was controlling Kazuma's body tonight."

"And are you any closer to learning his motives?"

"After seeing what was done to Kazuma..." Sarutobi shook his head. "Some kind of black market organ trade? Perhaps someone at the hospital is responsible? According to Tsunade-sama, whoever dissected the victim seems to have had professional training."

"Nah," said Minato.

Both Sarutobi the elder and younger looked at him. The Hokage even raised an expectant eyebrow. "You disagree?"

It was too late to pretend he hadn't spoken up now. He would have to plough on, even if the sound of his own voice made his head ache. "Why would someone only interested in organs go after ninja? Civilians ought to be the prime target if that was the case. Whoever did this was an incredible shinobi to animate a corpse like that... I've never even heard of a jutsu that could do something like that. So... I think the victims have been taken for experimentation. Someone wants other shinobis' secrets, and he's killing to get them."

"How does that explain the children that have been taken?" Saru asked.

Minato shrugged listlessly. "I don't know." He was out of energy and out of ideas.

"Well-" The Hokage began, when a knock at his office door interrupted him. "Ah, right on time. Come in!"

Minato squinted over his shoulder as someone new entered. For a moment he thought it was a woman, with all that lovely glossy black hair and delicately boned features. Then the newcomer spoke in a familiar rasp.

"Sensei." Orochimaru bowed low.

Minato fought off a shiver. This guy always gave him the creeps, even when not in a state where the whine of an opening door could make his hair stand on end.

"I'm grateful for your hard work, Minato, Ren," the Hokage said, addressing them formally. "You've shed some vital light on the situation which would have been impossible without you, but from here I think it is best to let Orochimaru handle the investigation."

"What?" Saru blurted.

"Uh." Minato blinked slowly. "Did we do something wrong?" he asked.

"I can see you're exhausted," the Hokage, which was a kind way to put how Minato looked right then. "And at this point, I think Orochimaru has the necessary expertise to pick up where you've left off. Have no worries, my student is extremely capable."

This had to be what it felt like to have the rug pulled out from beneath your feet. Or rather, what if felt like to be Uchiha Fugaku. All the effort he'd put into catching this guy was suddenly insignificant... and this smirking snake-faced creep would be the one running away with all the credit in the end.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to let it go. This was no longer his problem. "Yes, Hokage-sama," he said blankly.

"Yes, Uncle," said Saru, dark brow tugged down so no one could mistake his feelings about this.

"You're too kind, Sensei," said Orochimaru silkily.

The Hokage smiled grimly. "You two are dismissed," he said to Minato and Ren, who both shot Orochimaru rancorous looks as they turned to leave.

As soon as the door was shut behind them and a reasonably safe distance had been put between them and the Hokage's office, Saru exploded with a growl of anger. "I can't _stand_ that guy," he fumed. "I have no idea what my uncle sees in him!"

"Must be good at his job," Minato said, more fairly than he felt. Problem was, as much as he disliked Orochimaru, he wasn't quite at the point where he was willing to agree with Saru on anything.

"I swear if that guy becomes Hokage, I'm out of here," Sarutobi said fervently.

This gave Minato a moment of pause. "Why would Orochimaru become Hokage?"

"Because... he's next in line?" Sarutobi shrugged. "I thought everyone knew that."

Everyone except Minato, who had been led to believe since he was a child that he was the one and only preferred candidate. He decided not to mention this to Saru in case the other man thought he was deluded.

Perhaps he was? Perhaps he'd never been a strong contender at all... and certainly after the last few weeks, even Saru himself looked a more likely Hokage candidate than Minato did.

"I'm hoping Dan will get it," Saru confided.

"Who?" He knew that name from somewhere.

"Tsunade-sama's lover. He's a brilliant jonin – and he's got peaceful ideals too. I wouldn't trust Orochimaru not to lead us into five new wars the second he becomes Hokage, and believe me, I went to school with the guy. I know what he's like. Uh... what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Minato sighed, forcing away whatever treacherous expression had just crossed his face. "I'm just tired."

"Ok. I guess I'll see you around." Saru lifted his hand in a resigned sort of way and moved past him.

Minato bit the inside of his mouth stubbornly, realising he hadn't been the friendliest of individuals and really, Saru didn't deserve that, even if he was dating Kushina. "Saru, wait," he called tiredly, making the other man turn apprehensively. "Thanks for your help tonight. It was really nice working with you."

A vaguely disbelieving expression slowly changed into a guarded smile. "Thank you. I hope we work together again soon."

They were both terrible liars.

* * *

It was the earliest hours of the morning when Minato returned home. The sun was just beginning to peep over the hills as Minato let himself through the door as quietly as possible, for he assumed that at this hour someone as sensible as Kushina would be tucked up soundly in bed.

He did not expect to find her curled up on the sofa beneath a thin blanket... though that was indeed where he found her.

The sight of her momentarily struck him dumb. Had she tried to wait up for him? It was rare to see Kushina like this, in a completely unguarded moment when he could just look at her for as long as he liked without freaking her out. She looked a little different, with her porcelain face relaxed and flawless, framed by a mane of unkempt hair. How could she think of cutting it?

And when he looked at her like this, all his troubles faded into the background. This mess of a mission had brought his weaknesses into painful focus, and his natural assumption that one day he would simply be made Hokage had been shaken to pieces in one offhand comment from Saru. Yet there was a lock of hair that had fallen across Kushina's cheek, and at that moment it was the only important thing in the universe.

He reached out to tuck it back in place and gave into the temptation to brush his fingers across her cheek, wanting to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. At once, Kushina's eyes flew open and she looked at him.

She'd never been asleep at all.

"Uh..." he said cleverly, frozen with his fingers hovering near her ear. "Just got in... the mission's over, so I'm going to bed now. For, like, a really long time."

She sat up slowly, never once taking her eyes off him. It was all the more unnerving for how unreadable her stare was.

"Goodnight," he said roughly, backing as casually as he could towards the stairs.

"Good morning," she corrected in return.

"Ah, I guess you're right," he said, laughing nervously. He blindly groped behind him for the banister and once he found it he all but fled up to his room. There he threw himself down on the bed with a humiliated groan, clenching the fingers of his offending hand into a fist around the covers.

He was unaware that, downstairs, Kushina remained fixed on the sofa, touching her cheek as if it burned her.

* * *

TBC


	14. Cut

A/N: With the recent chapters of the manga regarding Minato and Kushina, I think it's safe to say that any hopes of tweaking this story to fit canon have been blown out the window. Srsly, never saw these twists coming.

SO, the story will continue as planned and is now officially AU. I still hope to incorporate less disruptive pieces of canon into the story as naturally as possible, but we'll see how it goes.

* * *

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Fourteen: Cut

* * *

"Ok, here's the plan," said Shikaku. "Once we go in, we'll be outnumbered, but if we keep our eyes on the target and keep moving, we'll be ok. Make the drop off and get out as fast as you can."

Minato just looked at him and laughed.

"You're not going to take this seriously?" Shikaku quirked a judgemental eyebrow at him.

Still laughing, Minato shook his head. "I think I'll be ok."

"That's what you think. But when you've do this for as long as I have, you stop underestimating these guys pretty quickly. They're not human, Minato. They're monsters."

And on that note, he opened the gate and ushered them both into the academy playground.

It seemed like such a long time since he'd last set foot in this place, and it was almost exactly as he remembered it. Different faces perhaps, but here were the same games, and the same squeals and the same shrieks of laughter that he was once a part of. How was it that something could be so unchanged and yet now was alien to him? Just six years had passed since he'd left this school, and the only reason he was back today was because Shikaku – who had decided to waste some time as an academy teacher – had enlisted his help to transport some heavy boxes. The one Shikaku carried bore brand new exercise books. Minato's held apples.

"You might want to watch your backside too," Shikaku called over his shoulder as they navigated their way through swarms of tiny people.

"Why?" Minato asked hesitantly.

"Oh... no reason. It's just that there was some dumb cartoon on a few weeks ago where a character shoved his fingers up the ass of another character, and, well, it seems to have caught on. They think it's hilarious."

"Kids seem so much more advanced these days," Minato mused. "All I cared about when I was eight was-"

"Embarrassing the rest of us by hanging out with the sannin and inventing jutsu for fun. Yeah. I was there. Put the boxes down over here."

They dumped the boxes by the school entrance and moved to stand against the wall. "What are the apples for?" Minato asked, picking up the roundest, reddest one he could see.

"Eating," said Shikaku bluntly.

"_We_ never got apples."

"_We_ grew up during the war," was the retort. "The war's over now, man. It's a time of plenty and good nutrition. More importantly, money was cut from the military budget and got dumped in the academy. You should see some of the shit these ungrateful kids get. TVs in every classroom. Can you imagine that? No wonder they're all being influenced by violent cartoons – they watch them during algebra."

Bouncing the apple in his hand, Minato let his gaze rove the playground and caught sight of a group of small girls staring at him. The moment they realised they'd been sussed, they huddled together in a flurry of giggles and continued to peek at him over each other's shoulders.

Shikaku noticed this was a scoff. "Still ridiculously popular here, huh?"

"So much more advanced," Minato murmured, refocusing his attention on the apple that was bouncing higher and higher thanks to little pushes of wind chakra.

"Not really. Times change, but the kids and their cliques are always the same," Shikaku said sagely. "There's the popular girls who think of nothing but boys and hair," he pointed to the giggling girls, "then there's the loser kid no one talks to," he pointed to the swing beneath the tree, once so often occupied by Kushina, and was now occupied by a small dark-haired boy in oversized goggles. "Then of course, there's the insufferable genius who everyone loves."

The last boy he pointed to was the one surrounded by a gang of other boys, engaged in a game of marbles and who naturally had the lion's share of winnings. Minato knew that white hair and magazine-perfect face. It was Hatake Sakumo's son, and Kushina's most favourite person in the world.

"Where's your gang then?" Minato wondered.

"Probably inside, swapping collectable cards and being terrified of girls," Shikaku sighed. "Man I hated school. Can't believe I came back here, but it was either this or just more tedious missions."

Being quite fond of his tedious missions, Minato smiled. "Why didn't you go into the communication division with Yoshino?" he asked.

"You can spend too much time with your girl, you know? I get enough of her nagging outside of work. I don't think I could take her as my boss."

"You spent all that time trying to catch her and now all you do is complain about her," Minato pointed out. He still had long, dark memories of nights on the border where he'd been subjected to torturous hours of 'Do you think she likes me?' He had _not_ put up with that nightmare for nothing. The apple thumped in his hand harder the higher it flew.

Shikaku spread his hands. "Don't get me wrong, I love her, but she can be a complete bully sometimes. I can't spend _all_ my time with her. Don't you feel that way about your Yoshi?"

"Me and my Yoshi are... on a break for a while," Minato said evenly.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened. That's probably what the problem was."

Shikaku nodded his head wisely. "Ah... the spark went out of the relationship," he said. "It happens."

"I don't think the spark was ever in the relationship," Minato said honestly. "I sort of felt obliged to go out with her after she confessed to me... but it's like, every time we kissed, I felt nothing."

"Nothing?" Shikaku repeated. "You're going out with the hottest girl in the village, and you felt nothing?"

"Nothing," agreed Minato.

"Maybe you're gay?"

"Maybe." The apple slapped into his palm as he snatched it out of the air and brought it under his chin.

"Or maybe she just wasn't your type," Shikaku went on. "Give a brunette a go or something."

Minato resumed amusing himself with his apple, this time rotating it a few inches above his palm by driving a weak form of rasengan around its core. "You make it sound like trying on a new shirt," he said.

"Exactly!"

Minato smiled. "I think I'll tell Yoshino you just equated her gender with articles of clothing."

"Please don't," said Shikaku in a small voice.

He laughed again, and was about to reassure him that he couldn't be so cruel, when he felt something tug on his knee.

He looked down.

A pair of orange goggles looked back up. "How'd you do that?"

"What?" Minato stared.

The boy pointed to the apple spinning above his hand.

"Do you want to learn?" Minato asked.

The small child nodded eagerly. He could only have been around four or five years old, probably in the youngest set in the school, and far too young to know the fundamentals of chakra manipulation. It would be years before the academy so much as brushed against these topics.

But that was no reason not to try.

Crouching down, Minato handed the boy a fresh apple, the smallest one he could find to fit in his palm. "Hold it out like this," he said, demonstrating with his own apple. "Can you imagine the inside of the apple? In the middle with the pips?"

The boy nodded again, staring hard at the fruit.

"Now... what's your name?"

"Obito!"

"Now, Obito, do you know what chakra is?"

This time the boy shook his head.

Minato hummed, wondering how best to phrase it. Jiraiya was the one who had taught him about chakra, and he still faintly recalled the lesson to this day. "Everybody has a stream of chakra running through their bodies. It starts here," he pointed to Obito's middle, "and it flows around your body like blood flows in your veins. Can you feel it running through your arm?"

Obito wrinkled his nose. "No..."

"You have to close your eyes and concentrate real hard," Minato advised, and the boy didn't hesitate to obey, screwing his face up in a parody of 'concentration'. "The chakra is always moving. It flows down your arm and through your fingers, and then back up again. If you can picture it, you can start to feel it."

"Maybe..." Obito suddenly grinned. "Yeah! I can feel it!"

Minato smiled. "Now can you feel the chakra circling in your hand beneath the apple? The centre of your palm is where the chakra turns and goes back up your arm - it's shaped like a U. What you want to do is create a circle beneath the apple, and keep the chakra moving fast and evenly, and once you can do that, you can make the apple spin."

Obito stared hard at the fruit in his hand, but predictably nothing happened. "It's not working," he said plaintively.

"It takes a lot of practise," Minato warned. He was pretty sure he was the first and only nin in his generation to have mastered pure form manipulation.

Some other children had crept over curiously, their confidence boosted by Obito's example. "Can you teach _us _ a jutsu, please?" asked one of the giggling girls.

Behind him, Shikaku snorted. "Now you've done it..." he muttered.

"How'd you make the apple spin like that?" asked one of the older boys.

"Nuh-uh, we asked first!" chorused the girls, hissing at the boy like vipers.

"No need to fight," Minato said, lifting his hands to placate the gathering kids who were all looking jealously at Obito and his apple, like they'd all suddenly entered a parallel universe where children coveted their five-a-day. "That's a pretty difficult jutsu – how about something a little easier?"

There were little murmurs of consent around him as he bent to the apple box and picked out two more apples. "Ok, I'll show you a skill no legendary nin ever born has done without," he said. He flicked one apple into the air, then another. When they came down he caught them and threw them back up, settling into a pattern. "It's a form of object manipulation that will-"

"That's just juggling," said one boy accusingly, feeling the need to point. "That's for the circus, not for ninjas!"

"Are you sure?" Minato asked, maintaining his rhythm. "Master juggling and you boost your hand-eye coordination, you improve your balance, and your speed. Not every juggler is a legendary ninja, it's true, but every legendary ninja can at least juggle."

The children watched, mesmerised by the flying fruit.

"I want to juggle," said a girl.

"I want to be a legendary nin!" said a boy, far more honestly.

Suddenly everyone was clambering for apples of their own. Shikaku had to throw himself over the box to fend off the groping hands. "The apples are for _eating_, not for playing with!" he exclaimed, but when confronted with a sea of heartbroken faces and wobbling chins – including Minato's – he sighed and caved. "Beanbags are in the training shed."

And as the children scurried away to raid the shed – all except for Obito who was still locked in a battle of wits with the apple in his hand – Shikaku looked at Minato suspiciously. "Is that true, about legendary nin?" he asked.

"Nah," said Minato, quite unconcerned. "Sounds good, though."

So that was how Minato came to be standing in the middle of a playground during recess, juggling for the amusement of thirty-odd children. Bored with their own clumsy attempts at juggling, they spent far more time goading Minato into seeing how far he could take the skill. "Do it with five apples!" they shouted. "Ten!" "Do it one-handed!" "Do it blind-folded!" Minato naturally acquiesced to their demands, pulling down his hitai-ate over his eyes with one hand while his other hand flashed from side to side, keeping the momentum of his props going.

And that was how Jiraiya found him.

At first Minato thought nothing of the crunch of gravel behind him. Just another child or a teacher picking up wayward beanbags? He'd have to apologise for causing such a mess. It really wasn't his fault that he'd been ambushed by a pack of school kids who for some awful reason wanted to _learn_ something. In many ways, they were much more challenging than highly skilled enemy nin.

But all thoughts apology were broken, along with his concentration, when a gruff voice spoke out behind him.

"So this is the great Yellow Flash? Not exactly how I pictured you."

Apples and beanbags rained down mercilessly on Minato's head as his hands fumbled and failed. He whipped around, thrusting the hitai-ate up off his eyes so far it ended up lost somewhere in his hair. But he did not care, for while his ears might have deceived him, his eyes couldn't – that really was his teacher standing there.

"Sensei!" he cried out, half in shock and partly in elation.

Jiraiya smiled back, looking a little tired but no less pleased. "Oh, good, it really is you! I've been saying that to every blond kid I've met, I was bound to get it right eventually."

"Who's the hairy guy?" asked one kid petulantly, put out that they'd lost Minato's attention completely.

"Never mind that," Shikaku said sternly. "Recess is over. Back to classes! All of you!"

Minato barely registered the beleaguered moans of despair behind him. He'd already vaulted the fence and was crashing straight into an enormous bear hug with lots of manly back-clapping. "Look at you!" Jiraiya was saying in delight, measuring Minato by placing a hand on top of his fair head. "You shot up like a weed after all! And you used to be so self-conscious about your height."

Yet compared to Jiraiya, Minato still felt a little shrimpy. He had at least made average height for someone of his age which was all he could have hoped for. "And you look exactly the same," Minato said.

"Oh, you're too kind," demurred his sensei, who actually _did_ look a little more grizzly around the edges. His hair was longer than ever. Some would call that impractical, but only those who didn't know the incredibly deadly things this man could do with hair.

"Did you just get back?" he asked.

"More or less! I've already attended the Hokage and explained where the hell I've been for the last couple of months-"

"Years," Minato corrected.

"Has it really been so long?" Jiraiya sighed loudly. "Time flies when you're living in a damp hut in the middle of a flood plain."

"So _that's_ where you've been." Minato raised his eyebrows. "I hope it was time well spent."

"I hope so. Drafted a few books... caught a few colds... got to teach the student of the millennia..."

"Eh?"

"But enough about that nonsense!" Jiraiya said cheerfully, ruffling Minato's hair like he was still thirteen. "What have _you_ been up to? Making quite a name for yourself, I hear. I was living in a bog in the rain country and word of your deeds reached me there several times. I was a little worried about coming back – apparently you can kill a man just by looking at him, and those who see you should run for their lives, even if by the time they've seen you it's undoubtedly too late."

Minato shrugged. "I've heard that one," he admitted. "But I'm sure you'd be able to find more than enough people around here who could reassure you that I'm an idiot."

"No doubt," Jiraiya chuckled, and his train of thought made an obvious leap. "How're your teammates? How's Ai and Saburou?"

They'd begun to walk together, in the aimless way of people with miles to cover if only in conversation and not distance. "I haven't spoken to them in a while," Minato said, realising he hadn't actually spoken to his teammates since the time he'd arrived back at the village over a year ago. He'd seen them a few times, but they might as well have been strangers. "I think we've drifted apart a little."

Jiraiya looked truly sorry. "That's a shame," he said. "To most people, their first team is like a second family. Although I suppose that can't be true for all."

"Do you feel that way about your team?" Minato wondered, not thinking it at all plausible that anyone could have a familial feeling towards someone as slimy as Orochimaru.

"Sure. Like a brother and a sister," his sensei said with certainty.

Minato nodded slowly. "Do... people often hide up on rooftops hoping to catch a glimpse of their sister undressing?"

"Ok, a brother and a distant kinda kinky cousin," Jiraiya corrected. "Details. Although, I know it can be rough. Teams always have their friction, but I must admit I thought you and Ai would get over yours – you were a very complimentary team back then, you know."

"Maybe. I don't think she wants anything to do with me anymore these days."

Jiraiya made a regretful sound. "Even if it's hard, you should fight for your friends, Minato. It's a bad idea to let them go."

Minato said nothing, not wishing to encourage this topic. He'd thought growing apart from someone as belligerent as Ai was a natural conclusion, and that they were just two very different personalities who benefitted most from as much distance between them as possible. Why cling to people?

To discourage any further pestering about holding onto rabid acquaintances, Minato decided to change tracks in the surest way he knew how. "My dad died."

"Yes, I heard," Jiraiya nodded, glancing at him only once to gauge his expression. Thankfully there would be no uncomfortable outpouring of contrived sympathy from his teacher. They both knew what kind of father he'd been, although they'd rarely talked about him before. "What was it?"

"Heart attack," Minato said evenly. He'd long ago given up any pretence that he'd feel something about this, least of all grief. "You know, he left everything to a distant cousin?"

"A distant kinda kinky cousin?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Damn," Jiraiya murmured. "So where are you living now?"

"House-sharing with a friend."

"Anyone I know?"

"You remember Uzumaki Kushina?"

At this, Jiraiya stopped dead in the street. Minato looked back at him, bemused at the disbelieving grin spreading across his sensei's face. "You're yanking my chain," he stated, looking like he was a breath away from a snigger.

"What's so funny?" Minato asked.

"Uzumaki Kushina?" Jiraiya repeated, as if the joke was obvious. "Your reluctant student? The one who moisturises with mud, talks like a boy, and dresses like a hobo?" He raised his hand somewhere around the region of his waist, no doubt simulating Kushina's height as he remembered her. "The one who hopped up and down screaming for my blood while her sensei knocked seven bells out of me?"

Minato gave his teacher a slightly reproachful look. "She's not exactly the same as she was back then," he said. "Well, mostly..." She still hopped around screaming for blood sometimes, especially if Minato borrowed her hair spritzer.

"Minato – you're the star of the village! Couldn't you have shacked up with someone a little... cleaner? Prettier?" Jiraiya asked, which was about as delicate as could be expected from him.

"I-It's not like that," Minato said quickly. "She's just a friend."

Surprisingly, Jiraiya nodded and seemed to accept this rather too easily. "Oh, ok," he said, probably still picturing the dirty urchin Kushina had once been. "But I'm sure you've had many girlfriends by now."

Ah. "One or two," Minato said lightly, which wasn't so much modesty as the honest truth.

Jiraiya, beaming, looped his arm over Minato's shoulders and they resumed walking. "Not all my teachings were lost on you, my boy," he said deviously. "I bet you're a regular heartbreaker with a face like that and a reputation that encompasses a continent. Just like your old sensei, huh?"

"Would you like to meet her?"

"I'd love to meet your lovely girlfriend, Minato-"

"No," he said. "I mean Kushina. Why don't you come over? Have some tea or something? Kushina knows you pretty well, I've told her all about you."

Even Minato couldn't miss the fleeting reluctance that coloured Jiraiya's pause before he answered. "I'd love some tea. Just what a guy needs after so much travelling."

So Minato began steering them in the direction the house. Whatever his sensei's trepidations about Kushina were, he had the feeling that he would be pleasantly surprised. Kushina was quite different from the almost feral child Jiraiya had once glimpsed who was more likely to bite your hand off than shake it. She'd already expressed an interest in meeting Jiraiya one day anyway.

Once they arrived, Minato let them in. "Cute flowers," Jiraiya remarked, looking a little perturbed at the tubs of geraniums around the porch. Perhaps he couldn't imagine Minato keeping after them, nor the scruffy Waterfall girl.

"Ku~shi~na!" Minato sang into the house.

"Wha-at?" Kushina's voice sang back from upstairs.

"Could you come down, there's someone I want you to meet."

Jiraiya was squinting up the stairs, trying to match his memory of the girl to the warm honey that Kushina's voice had become. When she appeared at the top of the stairs, peering down just as curiously at Jiraiya, Minato smiled. She always looked her best, even when she was simply wearing her usual blue tunic and black pants.

"Sensei, this is Kushina," he said, gesturing to the girl descending the creaky staircase. "Kushina, this is my sensei, Jiraiya."

Kushina's eyes widened a little. "Jiraiya-sama," she said, ducking into an instinctive bow. Minato's reputation wasn't the only one that had grown during the war. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Minato looked at his sensei, only to realise the man was still staring at Kushina like he'd never seen anything like her. This was where Minato began to feel the first hint of dire foreboding. His hand flashed out, lightly knocking his knuckles against Jiraiya's stomach.

Jiraiya came back to life with a gasp. "And what a _pleasure_ it is to meet you, my dear," he said, his voice suddenly deeper than Minato recalled, and his smile was a little broader than necessary. "Minato's told me a lot about you too, but he neglected to mention what a beauty you've become."

Kushina simply turned pink and smiled uncertainly. She never knew how to respond to compliments.

"We're going to have some tea. Do you want to join us?" Minato asked.

"S-Sure," Kushina stammered, still looking at his teacher a little warily. "I have an appointment in a bit, but there's some time to kill."

Her wariness was for a good reason, as when Minato led them into the kitchen, Jiraiya happily began ambushing her with questions.

"So what do you do, Kushina, my love?"

"I'm a chunin. I'm part of Team Sakumo."

"Ah, yes, and how is old Sakumo?"

"Not so old. He's not been the same since his wife died, but you know..."

"I hear his son is doing well."

"Kakashi?"

"Very talented by all accounts."

"The academy call him a genius, yes. He's already a qualified genin. They're thinking of recommending he take the chunin exam soon and even assigning him to the tutelage of a jonin teacher even earlier than Minato."

"So soon? The next generation continues to embarrass its elders."

Minato banged the cupboards loudly. "Kushina, where's the tea cups?" he asked, glad for an excuse to interrupt.

"Oh, they're upstairs," she said, looking quite grateful herself. "I'll go get them."

She left the room, but Minato didn't miss the way Jiraiya's gaze dropped to her backside as she went. As soon as she was up the stairs and most likely out of earshot, Minato shot him a fierce glare.

Jiraiya pretended to reel back as if he'd suddenly discovered this fatal glare the rumours talked about. "What?" he asked, confounded.

"Don't look at her like that," Minato hissed quietly. "She's not... not a woman."

"Are you blind?"

"You know what I mean. She's my age. You can't look at her like that, it's wrong."

"What's so wrong about it? She's legal."

Good god, what had he done? Minato sank down weakly into a chair beside the table, suddenly wondering if he'd made a terrible mistake by bringing his sensei here. He'd _known_ the man was an unrepentant lecher, and it was a huge blunder to assume that girls once safe from his lustful gaze would _always_ be safe. "Sensei, she's my friend," he whispered. "Don't embarrass her."

"Relax, Minato. It's just some harmless flattery. Girls like to feel their efforts don't go unappreciated," Jiraiya said, taking the seat opposite him. "Though I can now see why you moved in with her."

No amount of glaring could sober his sensei, and once Kushina came back with a set of three tea cups he was no longer able to chastise him.

"Such a pretty house you have, Kushina," Jiraiya called to her as she fixed the tea.

"Thank you," she said. "I do my best."

"I always thought Minato was a little aesthetically challenged, but it appears he has an eye for beauty, after all."

Minato's aesthetically challenged foot immediately lashed out and thumped his sensei's shin. The table jerked. Kushina looked back at them suspiciously over her shoulder, but the two men merely smiled back pleasantly.

"If you did all this, perhaps you could come over to my place and do a little decoration," Jiraiya suggested. "I'm afraid that after years of neglect my house is in shambles. Some mighty big spiders moved in while I was away."

"Perhaps you stayed away a little too long?" Minato said, fighting down fiercely mixed feelings. Once he'd been quite bitter about his sensei's prolonged absence – now he found himself wishing just a little bit that the man was still gone if all he was going to do was ooze over poor Kushina.

"I admit, I've missed this village quite a lot, but I came back as soon as I could."

"What were you doing?" Kushina asked, returning to the table with a steaming teapot. "Minato said you were in the rain country, but I thought the war ended there years ago."

"Well, Kushina, my dear, I was on my way back here with my team when I came across a couple of children – orphans. They were starving and desperate but I could see they had potential. I thought to myself that I could stay for a couple of weeks, show them how to get by. An opportunity for good karma should never slip away."

"That was kind of you," Kushina said. She was a little subdued as she poured the tea, but then she herself had once been an orphan fleeing a war-torn homeland.

"But you were gone a year," Minato pointed out.

"Unavoidable," his sensei said, sipping his tea. "Mm, this is delicious. I hope you keep this one, Minato." He winked at Kushina.

Since Kushina was not and never had been his to 'keep', Minato blushed even more strongly than she did. "What do you mean, unavoidable?"

"One of the orphans, a boy, possessed the Rinnegan."

"You're serious?" Minato stared at him, mouth a little slack.

Kushina looked between them. "What... what does the mean?"

"There's a legend," Minato told her, "that all shinobi can trace their talents back to one man who lived thousands of years ago. He founded the ninja arts, and he possessed the Rinnegan, which is like some kind of predecessor of the Uchiha's Sharingan and the Hyuuga's Byakugan."

"He was also the first jinchuuriki," Jiraiya added.

"What's a jinchuuriki?" asked Minato, and he saw Kushina's hand jerk from the corner of his eye. He'd never heard that term before, but perhaps she had, since she was now looking at her tea as if she'd swallowed oil.

"A person with a tailed beast sealed inside them," his sensei explained. "There are supposedly nine, although they come and go, unless they're sealed into people. The last Jinchuuriki I heard of was the nine-tails himself… but that Jinchuuriki hasn't been seen for nearly ten years. Disappeared at the height of the war, which is just as well. People like that are a bit dangerous to have around, whichever side they're on. "

"But that's all just a legend," Minato said hastily, worrying Kushina was taking tales of monsters a little too seriously to have turned such an alarming shade of white. "And the Rinnegan doesn't actually exist, does it?"

"Maybe, maybe not. All I knew was that this boy possessed a power as terrible as the legend and that it would have been madness to leave him without some sort of training or guidance. This kid was a genius... a once in a millennia kind."

And Minato, who had heard himself described as a once in a decade kind of genius only, sat back and refused to touch his tea. Something about this topic annoyed him, and it wasn't just the casual way his sensei flirted with Kushina. He'd always thought his sensei a hopeless case when it came to women, but this was the first time it had ever truly irritated him, but then perhaps it was nothing more than simple jealousy that his teacher had been enraptured by a much superior student the last few months.

Once upon a time, Jiraiya had told him about a prophecy he'd received that he would train a student who would go on to change the world. It was now clear just by looking at the man's face that he no longer believed this was Minato.

Kushina cleared her throat into the strange silence. "I… um… my appointment. I should go," she said awkwardly, rising to her feet without meeting anyone's eyes. "It was nice to meet you, Jiraiya-sensei."

"Please, just call me 'Sensei'," oozed Jiraiya.

"Oh... of course."

Jiraiya took a long leisurely sip of his tea as Kushina whizzed past him on her way into the hall. After a moment she'd grabbed her bag and was out the door, leaving Minato wishing he could have contrived a reason to go with her.

"Now _that_ is an interesting expression."

Minato looked at his teacher. "What?" he mumbled, aiming for a neutral tone but hitting somewhere between sullen and grumpy.

"You should see your face right now," Jiraiya said, smiling slightly. "You've got it bad, my boy."

"You're the one flirting mindlessly with her," Minato rebuked. "I'm sorry I introduced you. I was hoping you'd actually have some respect for my friends instead of doing your best to make them uncomfortable. She all but ran out the door to get away from you."

A little surprised at his tone, Jiraiya set his teacup down and held up his hands. "That's just my way of showing approval for your choice of 'friends'. But if she's yours you should have said so."

Minato laughed caustically. "She's not mine. If she's anyone's, she belongs to Sarutobi Ren."

"Ahh," Jiraiya said, a deep sound of understanding rumbling in his throat. "That explains everything. Unrequited love is the thorn that keeps good men from taking the beautiful rose, and I know it's cruel barb only too well."

"Would you give over?" Minato sighed. "I told you, it's not like that."

"My mistake," Jiraiya said in his overly placatory tone, that did nothing to assure Minato he'd convinced his sensei. "Now, are you up for some training? I've gotten kinda rusty, and I want to see exactly how accurate your reputation is."

* * *

Jiraiya's insistence that his skills had slipped in any way turned out to be a bald-faced lie. After his obligatory initial shock at Hiraishin's speed, the technique turned out to be little use against an opponent like Jiraiya who definitely took the immovable object approach to combat. It was hard to outmanoeuvre a rock, and certainly hitting Jiraiya _felt_ like he was hitting a rock.

"You're dropping your arm," his sensei said, absorbing the hardest punches Minato could throw at him with his hand like he was batting away mosquitoes. "You're getting lazy, kid."

It had been a long time since anyone had actually corrected Minato's stance. Jiraiya certainly wasn't wrong, though it wasn't long before Minato started feeling annoyed again. Instead of being directed at his sensei, however, it was directed inwards. He'd thought his taijutsu form was near flawless, but if Jiraiya could casually spot five errors in a single glance, his self-assurance was unwarranted. Just like his confidence that he was the only one being groomed to be Hokage turned out to be the ultimate conceit.

"You've gotten better," Minato said, pausing to tuck his blunt kunai against his arm as he mopped his brow with a sleeve.

"You're not so bad yourself," Jiraiya said as he massaged his sore hands. "You're quite an intense fighter. No wonder you scare people."

Minato had heard his fighting style described like that before. Shikaku had said something along the lines of it being like Minato switched off and became a relentless blank-faced killer drone until the last body had fallen. But then Shikaku was prone to exaggerate.

"Sensei," he began as he slipped back into a comfortable stance – elbow conscientiously held at the correct angle Jiraiya preferred. "Do you still think I could be Hokage?"

Jiraiya, about to mirror him, paused. "What? Of course."

"But it's not like I'm the _only_ person the Sandaime might choose," he said. "I mean, there's someone like Dan."

His teacher pulled a face. "Is that loser still around?"

He was only a 'loser' in Jiraiya's eyes because he was affianced to the love of his life and/or most frequent stalking victim. Everyone else seemed to like Dan just fine. "Then there's Orochimaru. A couple of weeks ago, the Sandaime took a mission he'd given to me and gave it to Orochimaru."

"Perhaps it's in his area of expertise?" Jiraiya suggested diplomatically.

There had been no further kidnappings but... "It's not like he's succeeded any better than me and Ren did."

"You and Ren, huh?" His sensei grinned. "Perhaps he sensed the love rivalry between you two and decided to-"

"You only came back to torture me, right?" Minato moaned in despair. "I'm serious. I don't think I'm cut out for this. I thought that if I became Hokage one day I could make a difference, but then the war ended... and... now I'm sure what I'm supposed to do. What if I don't have what it takes to be Hokage?"

Jiraiya only looked mildly confused. "It's not like you to be plagued with self-doubt."

That was only because back when he was thirteen, he'd thought he knew all there was to know. Then a couple of weeks ago, a man with a monkey had demonstrated what a perfect fool he was. "I'd probably feel better if you taught me some new jutsu," he said, a little cheekily.

"Oh?" Jiraiya raised a sceptical eyebrow even as he smiled. "You're a jonin now, what could I possibly teach you?"

"Well... there's always... summoning?" Minato said with all the subtlety of Kushina when she was trying to drop hints that he should clean his room – which usually involved a clip around the ear.

"Summoning?" Jiraiya gave a great bark of laughter. "Didn't I already teach you that?"

"No," said Minato plainly.

His sensei sobered. "Oh..." He tapped his chin, watching Minato sceptically as if judging whether or not he was ready. "I'll introduce you to my summoning contracts... _if_ you can knock me on my back."

Minato narrowed his eyes. That was like asking him to knock over a hill. "Do you want me to roll out some safety mats so you don't break a hip?" he asked.

"You're a lot cheekier than I remember," Jiraiya rebuked. "I'm not _that_ old."

"Well-"

"Just get into position, Blondie."

Blondie got into position. The soles of his sandals rasped against the dry earth as he assumed his stance and sought for some sign of weakness in his teacher. The only thing you could do against immovable objects was to try and use their size and strength against them. Perhaps if he went for the knees?

"Are you waiting for the grass to grow?" Jiraiya heckled him. "Come on!"

Jiraiya found himself promptly swallowed up in a localised dust storm. Minato moved in quickly – if this was going to end it was going to have to end fast – and skirted his sensei's blinded form till he was just in the right position to throw all his weight into hooking his arm behind Jiraiya's knee. The man was supposed to fall flat on his back. Instead, Minato's shoulder felt like it had slammed against a tree.

"I almost felt that one," Jiraiya said, stepping swiftly out of range again and dispersing the dust cloud with a sweep of his hair of all things.

Massaging his shoulder, Minato calculated a secondary tactic.

"You could always use tripwires," his teacher suggested amicably. "Fiddly little things are hard to see – and flat on my face is as good as flat on my back in any case."

"_Sensei,"_ sighed Minato, not wanting or needing advice on how to defeat his opponent from said opponent. He still had a little pride.

From the pouch at his hip he withdrew a handful of marked kunai between splayed fingers. Jiraiya squinted and gave a shrewd grunt. "Hiraishin again?"

"It's what I'm best at," Minato said.

Jiraiya shrugged. "So be it, but you realise speed won't help you much here."

"You sure about that?"

The kunai rained down around Jiraiya, striking the ground in a rough pattern. Almost at once his sensei began to retreat – if he was out of the range of the tags Minato couldn't touch him, but Minato was already activating the jutsu. Before Jiraiya could take another step, Minato had flashed between every single tag on the field, his passage barely noted, except for the hair-thin wire he left in his wake.

Without ever seeing the web being spun around him, Jiraiya's ankle was caught. For a moment he wheeled, close to overbalancing. "Tripwires!" he cried, as if delighted. "What did I tell you!"

But he never would have suggested anything he couldn't handle. With an audible twang, the wire snapped. Jiraiya checked his stance and grinned at Minato who had come to a stop a few metres away. "Nice try. You almost had me."

Minato shook his head. "It was a diversion, sensei. Look down."

Jiraiya looked down. A tagged kunai protruded from the ground between his feet, one he'd overlooked because at first glance it looked like every other kunai Minato had thrown. But it only needed a second glance for Jiraiya to realise this tag was not like the others – the incantation written on it was not one of god-like speed, but of combustion.

It was an exploding tag.

"_Minato!_" Jiraiya shouted as he threw himself backwards, the same time the tag flashed and an explosion rocked the clearing. Flames roiled, ash engulfed the air, and bits of what had formerly been the training ground rained down as a crater the length of Kushina's kitchen opened before Minato, who merely blinked against the heat and brushed some crumbs of earth off his shoulder.

Through the smoke and ash, strode Jiraiya, looking dismayed. "You tried to kill me," he accused. "The idea was to get me on my back, _not blow me up_."

"Did you fall on your back?" Minato asked hopefully.

Jiraiya may well have done just that, as although the front of his body was covered in a nice healthy coating of blackened smoke and ash, his backside bore grass stains.

But Jiraiya refused to answer, instead he reached out and knocked his knuckles hard against the top of Minato's head. And what was hard for Jiraiya was brutally hard. Minato hissed and fell to his knees, holding together what felt like the broken shell of his skull.

"Restraint, Minato," Jiraiya lectured, surprisingly calm for a man who had almost been roasted to a charred nub. "Have you forgotten how to hold back?"

Minato grumbled something that may have sounded like, _"My brains are coming out,"_ but it was hard to tell and Jiraiya wasn't playing close attention anymore. Someone had noticed the pyrotechnics and was approaching, and it was the one person who could make Jiraiya forget he'd just been blown up and that he looked like a half-cooked chestnut.

"What _are_ you two doing?" Tsunade asked suspiciously as she looked between Minato hissing curses on the ground and Jiraiya who was desperately trying to make soot look suave. "They only just re-turfed this field last week. You've only been back a day and already you're taking lumps out of the village."

"And hello to you too, Tsunade-chan," Jiraiya schmoozed. "Did you miss me?"

If Minato had cared to look up then, he would have noticed how the formidable woman's expression softened just a little bit. "It's been a while Jiraiya. I wish we could catch up but I'm heading out on a mission. Some skirmishes on the border need to be dealt with. Dan's waiting for me."

"You still wasting your time on that loser?"

"Any other losers you think I should be wasting time on?"

"Hmm… I could draw up a list for you when you get back," Jiraiya suggested.

"Would this be a list with you at the top, Jiraiya?"

"Oh, Tsunade-chan, so bold! If you want me, you should just say so."

She shot him a wry look, as if she'd heard this teasing a thousand times before. "I'll let you carry on beating up your poor student."

"Oh, no, you misunderstand," Jiraiya said quickly. "I'm just cheering him up."

"I see." She didn't look convinced.

And Jiraiya, who was not done punishing Minato for his little assassination attempt, gave his teammate a conspiratorial wink. "Little down in love, is our little Minato. Has a bit of a crush on Sakumo's student – you know, the little red-head."

"Oh, _her,"_ Tsunade was not above joining in a little torture, and she raised a coy hand to her mouth. "How sweet."

"I'm not – it's not-" stammered Minato, his vision just beginning to return.

"Oh, don't be shy, Minato-chan," Jiraiya cajoled. "There's nothing like young love. You should shout your feelings to the world!"

"Yes, you should definitely go confess right away. Take it from me, girls like to know they hold a boy's heart in their hands," Tsunade said.

"So they can squeeze them mercilessly until drained of all life?" Jiraiya wondered delicately.

"Why else?" Tsunade looked at Minato. "Well, she's downtown getting a haircut right now. You may want to wait till she's done before confessing your deepest, darkest desires – those salon places are the central nervous system of all village gossip and we wouldn't want your lovelife becoming a target of other people's amusement, would we?"

Too late for that, he thought, but something she'd said made him freeze, his eyes glazing over in horror. "What did you say?"

"Oh, how hard did you hit the poor boy, Jiraiya?" Tsunade scolded. "It's no fun teasing someone with a concussion."

"She's getting a _haircut_?" Minato demanded loudly.

Tsunade blinked at him in surprise. "Yes. I saw her heading into the hair salon opposite the library. Hard to miss someone with hair like that."

Minato did not wait to hear a single word more. He rose to his feet and tore away across the training field as if his very life depended on it. He ran without thought, leaving the two bewildered sannin staring at the dust where he'd disappeared, and pelted up onto the nearest rooftop to fix his sights on the high green dome of the library in the distance. He ran as the crow flew, eschewing the streets and alleys and pathways in favour of the most direct route imaginable, leaping across rooftops and scrambling over tiles and guttering.

The hair salon. Where the hell was the hair salon? In front of the library he hit the street with such a sudden, violent descent that several shoppers cried out and recoiled in various states of heart failure. Minato's wild gaze roved the street until – there – he saw it. A glass-fronted salon entitled "Cut and Dye."

When Minato slammed through the door, the high-spirited chatter inside the salon fell quiet in astonishment until only the buzzing of hairdryers could be heard. He didn't have to look too hard. The moment he entered he saw her, his gaze drawn instantly to that heap of glorious red hair that he feared he would find on the floor. But he'd arrived in time. The crimson locks were still attached to their owner's head, though she like everyone else was staring at him in wide-eyed confusion. A woman was poised behind her, a pair of scissors waiting to do their worst.

For what happened next, Minato wondered if the knock to his head was to blame.

"Don't do it!" he cried out, as one might cry to someone threatening to throw themselves off a bridge.

"Minato!" Kushina ground out, outrage beginning to creep into her shock at his dramatic entrance. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to stop you," he said gallantly. "Don't cut your hair, Kushina, it'll be a mistake! You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you cut your hair now!"

Kushina's mouth worked, grasping for a retort that wouldn't come. It was so strange for her to be the tongue-tied one. Although, he thought belatedly, he had just made a right fool of himself if all she'd come in here for was a shampoo and a rinse.

But he hadn't misunderstood. "I can cut my hair if I damn well like!" Kushina suddenly said, turning back to regard her reflection as her body radiated enough hostility to make her hairdresser edge back. "Go away!"

"You can't cut your hair!" Minato was beginning to grow a little desperate. "I won't allow it!"

"You won't allow it?" Kushina whirled to stare at him again, shock renewed. Neither of them were at all aware that every pair of eyes and ears were trained on them, watching and listening with the rapt, breathless anticipation of those watching a scandal unfolding. "Don't make me laugh! Get out of here, Minato!"

"You don't really want to cut your hair - you're only doing this for Ren!" he exploded. "You shouldn't do something like this just to appease your boyfriend!"

"So, what? I should appease you instead?" Kushina cried. "Why the hell do you care so much about my hair?"

The shock of her question brought him back to his senses with an unpleasant bump. Why did he care so much about her hair? Was he mad? Everyone was staring at him, waiting for his response, and the rush of righteous anger and desperation that had graced him so briefly with the ability to speak his heart and mind so clearly for once began to fade, and only then did he remember that he was no good at angry confrontations. He searched for the words, but they emerged as only a clumsy echo. "Don't cut your hair," he begged.

"Why do you care?" Kushina demanded again, and this time she sounded close to tears.

He had no right to care, and all too slowly he was realising it. Deflated, he could only hang his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's your decision, I can't stop you, but…"

What would he give to change her mind? Or to just run his fingers through those perfect glossy strands of true red once, and only once, before they were sheared off and swept away? He reached out, about to give into the desire, so very, very tired of always having to stand back and admire her from a distance like the good friend she no doubt trusted him to be. But when he noticed she was staring at him like he'd gone insane, he drew back, and his fingers never would know the texture of her hair now. She had to know how he felt; that watching her cut off a lifetime's worth of her carefully nurtured mane was like watching a famous painting being defaced, or a beautiful statue decapitated. He didn't want to see her return to that time when she'd hacked all her hair off because she was angry and lonely and wanted to be invisible.

Even though he knew her pale heart-shaped face would suit any hairstyle and a bob or a crop would look terribly fashionable on her and no doubt all the girls would be green with envy and copying her within the month, the thought of never seeing her sitting in the bathroom for five minutes, plaiting her hair, or never again finding hairs of red as long as his arm on the living sofa filled him with a strange sort of misery.

"I'm sorry," he repeated flatly, and excused himself with as much hangdog dignity as he could, intending to go somewhere quiet to deal with his grief alone for a while.

In his wake the chatter in the salon slowly returned and grew in volume. "My, my," said the hairdresser behind Kushina as she returned to begin plucking eagerly at her customer's mop of hair. "Even the young ones can be a bit old-fashioned about hair, can't they? Now where did you say you wanted it? Just below the ears, yes?"

Kushina didn't reply. She was transfixed by the ashen face looking back at her in the mirror.

* * *

Minato didn't go home that evening. It was difficult to face someone after you'd made a spectacular fool of yourself, more so when you were only just beginning to understand why. All the volatile thoughts of inadequacy and the turmoil Jiraiya's fickle flirtation had left him in were gone, and for once he was calm, his mind loosening its censor around the thoughts he had always tried to ignore – a cage sprung open either by his teacher's terrific blow or by the wetness in Kushina's eyes when she'd demanded why he cared. Her question itself had already contained the answer: because he cared.

It wasn't such a shock to him. He'd lived with this niggling feeling in his chest for so long that he had, without realising, already accepted it a long time ago, and it was something of a relief to admit – if only to himself – that his feelings for Kushina went beyond friendship, that Ren annoyed him because Minato's attempt to make Kushina happy had driven her into his arms, and that Jiraiya's teasing had panicked him so much because it was a subject he coped with only by being permitted to ignore it.

But this new honesty and clarity of thought didn't banish the same old problems that had always held him in check. It didn't change that Kushina was in a long term relationship. It didn't change that she probably thought he was a flaky idiot who was cold and distant. It didn't change that his previous girlfriends would vehemently agree with her.

So instead of heading home, he chose a spot along the high wall enclosing the second training ground and stretched out across bricks that were still warm from the sun that had faded to an orange disk near the horizon. Up there, no one bothered him, and he was free to enjoy the quiet – interrupted only occasionally by the despairing wails of genin in training. Free to think; to mourn in peace before he had to go back and pin a smile on as he complimented whatever travesty had befallen Kushina's noble hair, and hope that she didn't think too hard about his earlier outburst.

Had gone home that night, he would have known that after Kushina left the salon she had returned straight to the house, swept up the Yellow Flasher with his rosette crown, and wept to him bitterly about the stupidity of boys as long sheets of hair cascaded around them. All meaning was lost on a rodent who could only chunner hopefully for more dandelions.

Neither knew that the kunoichi having her hair trimmed beside Kushina had already passed on to her husband the news that The Yellow Flash himself had lost it in the salon with a beautiful young girl, and that the husband was now passing this around to his friends at the bar (a group which included one Saurtobi Ren) and interpretations varied. Either the strange, enduring friendship between the village's star jonin and the weird foreign girl had finally come to an end, or some incomprehensible kind of love confession had taken place – the details grew vaguer the further they spread, and all the more outlandish for it. Ren was concerned.

And none of them could know that at the same time, miles away from the village, Tsunade's team had been ambushed and Dan now lay dying in a pool of blood as his lover fought a losing battle to save him, screaming at him to stay as red stains left marks on her hands that she would never stop seeing.

In the twilight, Minato switched his gaze to the fat moon shining above his head, taking over from the sun in a tradition that predated life itself and would still be played out long after Minato was forgotten. A love life was such a complicated thing at eighteen, but as far as the universe was concerned, his feelings were no more consequential than the feelings of an ant. One life was a blip that barely registered in the cosmos, and no hurt or happiness lasted forever.

He decided not to worry too much about the weight of his feelings. His actions today had been a little embarrassing, but people would forget. Kushina's haircut was a loss to the world, but hair always grew out. That she loved Ren was a shame too, but even feelings could change over time. Perhaps his own would change eventually too, but for now he was at peace with the soft, certain love that had crept up on him over the years. Minato didn't dread facing her, nor would he resign himself to being a miserable, lonely ghost hovering at a respectful distance. He would see Kushina every day, as he always had, but now he would look at her through eyes that were fully open, and that was something he looked forward to.

It would remain unsaid, however; not because he wanted to protect himself with secrecy, but because love was not a proclamation – it was actions and words and touches, and it was in the lingering gazes and the long conversations in the kitchen about which brand of noodles tasted best, and it was in the silence too. Minato had been loving Kushina since before either had realised it. He didn't have to say it, not until she wanted to hear it.

Wrapped up in such tranquil thoughts, he almost missed the shadow sliding across the pavement below. It wasn't until he heard the soft greeting that he realised he was no longer alone. "Good evening, Minato-kun."

Minato sat up and looked down at the startling white face smiling up at him. More nervous men would have keeled straight off the wall. "Orochimaru-sama," he greeted stiffly.

"I hope I am not interrupting anything," Orochimaru said silkily, although he couldn't possibly have known he had cut into the single most important epiphany of Minato's young life.

"Can I help you, sir?"

This seemed to have been exactly what Orochimaru had been after. "As a matter of fact… yes, you can."

* * *

TBC


	15. A Sheath for a Sword

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Fifteen: A Sheath for a Sword

* * *

Minato had never been inside a laboratory before, but he quickly understood that they were not pleasant places, or at least the ones run by creepy androgynous geniuses weren't.

He looked around the badly lit room – every blind drawn, and only half the dull orange florescent tubes working above them. Most light appeared to be coming from a strangely smoking glass of noxious green on the middle workbench, confirming everything Minato had ever suspected about mad scientists. Granted, everything else looked pretty mundane. A cage of rats. Stacks of paperwork and research notes. One partially dissected monkey. Its little brown paw that so closely resembled a human hand had slipped off its tray to point at the floor. It reminded Minato of another place, at the edge of the water country, where it had been human corpses lining the tables and walls.

That memory was a dulled one. It no longer made his stomach clench the way it used to, but whether he realised it consciously or not, Minato raised his guard. He couldn't be at ease in this place; nor around this man.

"Have you ever been interested in science?" Orochimaru asked huskily, sliding past him to tap a long, elegant finger against a set of beakers contained some sort of current experimentation.

"It's alright," Minato said with muted enthusiasm. He'd been top of the class in science, but then he'd been top in everything. It didn't translate into any particular interest. "Botany was ok."

"Indeed?" Orochimaru smirked. "Did you know there are species of plants that are as close to immortal beings as any life-form on this planet? Once established they can live forever."

Minato begged to differ. The last time Kushina had gone away she'd left him in charge of all the houseplants. Minato had dutifully watered them every day, and in turn each and every one had dutifully shrivelled up and died. Still, the damn knotweed in the garden would probably outlive them both.

"What was it you needed helping with?" Minato asked, hoping to steer the sannin back to the matter at hand. The sooner it was done, the sooner Minato could return to the world of the living.

"Of course, of course. This must be the can-do spirit everyone talks about. Not a challenge exists you won't charge head-first into," Orochimaru said, smiling gracefully. But it did not sound like a compliment. "So tell me; did it bother you that the Hokage handed your mission to me?"

Minato remained perfectly schooled. It bother him, sure, but had a highly respected sannin really just brought him down to his lab to rub it in his face? "I'm sure your skills were better suited to the task," he said, which was a reassurance he'd been telling himself for weeks.

"Perhaps so, as I seem to have made a remarkable break-through."

He really _had_ come her to have his face rubbed in it. Minato's eyelids flicked fractionally lower. "How nice," he deadpanned.

Orochimaru tented his fingers together. They really were absurdly long. "And perhaps now, in the spirit of sticking to our strengths, it is time to return it to your hands?"

"What?" He hadn't expected that. Now he was gaping, stunned, as Orochimaru glided across his lab to retrieve a scroll from another bench. It bore the official seal of the Hokage.

"Our man has been identified and unearthed," said Orochimaru as he handed to scroll to Minato. "The bodies of the victims may never be recovered, but we can still find them justice, don't you think? His name is Kamina. He fled the village five hours ago when the Hokage issued an execution order."

That very execution order now rested in Minato's palm. He looked at it carefully, then back at the sannin. "I don't understand. Isn't this your mission to complete?"

"Unfortunately I am tied to my responsibilities to some _very_ sensitive experiments," Orochimaru whispered. "But I have been assured you have the swiftest, deadliest hand in your generation. I feel confident in leaving the conclusion of this matter to you."

Minato was still sceptical. Since when were ninja too busy doing experiments to serve the village? "You need a lab assistant," he said.

With a chuckle, Orochimaru tilted his head. "Perhaps I'll get one, one day..." he said, "but until then I'm sure you wouldn't mind. This way you will have the credit you deserve after all you did to track this man down. Isn't that better?"

Minato sensed an appeal to his vanity there. But the credit for stopping this man had never been his priority. It had only ever been his confidence in himself that had been shaken, not his pride. Even so, this was just as much of a chance to prove to himself he wasn't so obsolete. "As you wish," Minato said, tucking the scroll into his pocket. "I'll arrange a team as soon as possible."

"Excellent," Orochimaru said, sliding past him again, rather too close for comfort. "And in return I might be able to do _you_ a favour also?"

"How'd you mean?" Minato was hesitant. Owing or receiving favours from anyone like Orochimaru left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Haven't you always wondered who your father was?"

A true shiver crept up Minato's spine. This seemed far too much like a prelude to one of those 'I am your father' revelations that occurred far too frequently in Kushina's tacky books. "My father died. I buried him a few years ago," he said shortly.

"A mere civilian who had the honour of being married to such a phenomenal woman far beyond his league," Orochimaru said, flexing his fingers dismissively. Minato might not have liked or admired his father much, but even he considered this a little rude. "You didn't really think you were fathered by such an uncivilised brute? You must have wondered who your real father was."

"I've never really thought about it," Minato said honestly. "Are you saying you know my father?"

The sannin shook his head lightly, long, glossy hair swaying. "I don't know the answer to that question, but we could solve that puzzle together if you are interested."

"Why would you want to?" Minato wondered.

"Perhaps because it is a question that has intrigued a lot of people. You are one of most brilliant shinobi this village has produced in years, and although you no doubt owe a lot of this to Namikaze Midoriko, one can't help but wonder if there isn't a little more... pedigree about you than is immediately obvious."

"Would knowing change anything?" It didn't seem a very important question to Minato, and if people were asking it, they ought to find better things to worry about than his parentage.

"Knowledge can be pursued for its own merit," Orochimaru instructed. "And perhaps your father is still alive and eager to meet you? Isn't that worth finding out?"

With Minato's experience of parents, he was perfectly happy remaining an orphan, but it would be a lie to say he wasn't tempted to learn a name, or put a face to his other maker. "How could you possibly find out, though?" he asked. Because he was pretty sure this was knowledge his mother had taken to the grave.

"The answer," said Orochimaru, reaching out to grasp cold fingers around Minato's wrist, "lies here."

He managed not to recoil too strongly. The anwer lay in his wrist? It took him a moment to realise Orochimaru's fingertips were pressed hard against his pulse point. Minato could feel the blood thudding strongly under the pressure.

"A small sample of your blood is all I would need," said the sannin, delicately tracing the vein up Minato's arm.

Minato wondered if this was some kind of sexual assault. "And what would you do with it?" he asked stiffly.

Thankfully, Orochimaru suddenly released him and swept to a door on the far side of the room. Minato followed cautiously, and found himself led into a room that resembled the ice cream section at the supermarket. Except instead of delicious milky treats, inside these floor-to-ceiling refrigerators were row upon row of blood vials.

"Almost everyone in Konoha has a place in here," the sannin explained, leading him through the corridor of blood. "The first hokage, the second, the third... almost every single ninja who ever served here and shed blood here."

Minato was transfixed. "Is this legal?" he found himself asking.

"You think the Hokage would allow it if it weren't?" Orochimaru responded evasively. "A blood bank is a rather useful thing, and as you can see... ours is rather thorough."

He had stopped beside one particular fridge bearing the mark 'N1'. Following his gaze, Minato saw one particular vial stashed away inside.

It was labelled, 'Namikaze, Midoriko.'

"That's my mother's blood!" he cried. "Why would you have it?"

"She must have donated it," Orochimaru said, returning to his dismissive tone. "I simply inherited this collection. And as you can see, between your blood and hers, it would be very possible to see if your blood matches anyone else in this room. Even if your father never gave a sample, it's more than likely someone related to him did, and there will be your answer."

"And if my father is a civilian? Or from another village entirely?"

"Then you'll know at least." It was pretty clear that Orochimaru's interest would end if that turned out to be the case, so what did he care?

"And what happens to my blood?" Minato asked. "It gets stored here, along with everyone else's? What is this _for_?"

"Do you think I plan to do something devious with it?" Orochimaru asked lightly. "Clone you perhaps? Splice your DNA with others to create super men?"

Ok, that did sound a little stupid and paranoid. Minato sighed, glancing reluctantly to his mother's name. How strange that this was the only piece left of her. It was evidence that she had been real, not just an image in books and calendars that were as strange to him as any other long-dead kunoichi pin-up.

"I'll think about it," he said, and tapped the scroll he'd been given. "First I have to get a team and catch this guy, Kamina."

"Of course," Orochimaru simpered. That was when Minato spotted another door behind him, one that was bolted shut and slightly rusted.

"What's in there?" he nodded to it.

The sannin didn't mind others seeing the door or being this close to it. Only he could get through it and it was securely sound-proofed. Even if it hadn't been, his subjects had stopped screaming weeks ago...

"That," he said, smiling widely, "is where all the really exciting experiments happen."

* * *

An assignment like this required a careful balance of players. To track a man who had half a day's headstart that grew with every passing minute, he would need a damn good tracker. Unfortunate, Inuzuka Tsume was already occupied on another mission, so Minato was left with a limited choice. And he had to admit that of all the nin left in the village who specialised in tracking, Ai was probably the best.

So, with Jiraiya's words ringing in his ears about how teams were supposed to be like second families and comrades shouldn't just be disposed off like used tissues, Minato went off in search of Ai as he supposed one might for a very estranged and distant cousin. And there he found her, collecting stray kunai from the bushes in the genin training grounds.

"A mission?" she repeated flatly, looking more closely at the kunai in her bucket than at Minato. "Why me?"

"You're a good tracker," he said.

"Oh, is that all?" she muttered.

"Look, I need your help. If this guy gets away, he'll start killing again. He's a psycho."

"You need help?" Ai repeated again. "Does this mean you're done being full of yourself?"

Was there any way to answer that question without damning himself? "If you don't want to help, just say so. I can't afford to waste time here."

"What about Saburou? Shouldn't he come if you're so insistent on getting the old gang back together?"

Minato thought for a moment. Genjutsu could always come in handy, and Saburou was pretty proficient with it. "Yes. Find him and tell him to meet at the gate in half an hour." He turned to leave.

"Wait, I haven't agreed to anything yet!" Ai shouted after him.

"Then I'm waiting," Minato said spreading his hands expectantly.

Ai kicked the dust, her bucket falling limply against her side. She knew she didn't have a lot of time to wring this out, and her frustration showed on her face. "_Fine,_" she hissed at last. "But just this once."

A three-man team was a perfectly competent cell on its own, but Minato didn't want to leave anything to chance. He wanted a fourth member, though the one person he had in mind might be even more reluctant than Ai after their last encounter.

Still, he resolved himself to find Kushina. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, even if all he could hope to gain was another lump on his head. And usually since the first place she went whenever she was mad at him was her sensei's house, Minato knew where to begin looking.

Hatake Sakumo answered the door before Minato had even raised his hand to knock on it. He didn't look at all surprised. "She's in the back," he muttered, "Don't tell her I let you in."

Kushina had made her sensei cover for her so many times that they both knew the routine. Minato nodded his thanks and slipped past the older man, heading towards the family room at the back of the house. Sakumo, not wanting to be accused of aiding Minato, didn't follow.

As he drew closer to the room, he heard voices; one high and sulky, the other low and soft and as pleasant on the ear as honey on the tongue.

"...everyone has to go to the academy, Kakashi-kun. You need your education."

"But I already passed the genin exam."

"That doesn't mean you don't still have stuff to learn. What about maths and science and proper grammar and things?"

"I know everything the big kids know."

"Ok. What's pi?"

"It's... it's that thing what comes with apples in it."

"Yummy. But you can't quit the academy at your age. Even Minato had to do the full term."

"But he got given a teacher."

"So will you, I expect. Don't be so impatient, and don't pull on my hair..."

"Sorry."

Minato hung in the doorway, the polite cough he'd intended to make to announce his presence didn't come, because the moment he'd seen Kushina sitting in the middle of the floor, patiently fixing some kind of dog toy on wheels while Kakashi sat behind her, weaving her glorious shower of hair into experimental plaits, his voice ha died. There was as much of it as ever there was. She _hadn't_ had her hair cut, after all!

For some reason, Minato felt light-headed with happiness.

His shadow didn't go unnoticed, and suddenly Kushina turned to look at him. "What are you smirking at?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he said. "It's just... your hair..."

Her posture didn't change exactly, but to Minato it had suddenly become defensive. "What about it?"

"It's..." But Kushina wouldn't appreciate him pointing out she had gone with his suggestion – or rather – caved to his hysterical begging. She would take that as obnoxious gloating. "It's... really red."

"You're welcome," she said with a sniff, and went back to her task of reattaching the dog's wheel. Kakashi, however, continued to stare quite openly at Minato with the uncanniness only mastered by those who had dedicated a lot of study to black and white horror films about possessed child actors.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you," he said to Kushina.

"Mm?" she hummed flatly.

"I'm going on a mission... and I thought you might like to come."

She swivelled to fix him with a beady, suspicious stare that rivalled Kakashi's. "You what?"

"I'm going on a mission and I thought you might like to-"

"You never pick me for missions," she interrupted, more confused than annoyed.

"Well, you normally don't like my missions," he reminded her. His preference ran towards quick, clean termination missions, and Kushina, who had racked up a reputation for pacifism during the war, preferred the diplomatic kind of missions where you met new people and shook hands and left everyone alive with their limbs intact.

"Is this somehow different?" she asked.

"Well, you said you'd like to gut the guy with the sharp end of a hammer..."

"I say that about a lot of people," said the girl thought to be a pacifist. "You'll have to be more specific."

"The baby-snatcher."

"Argh!" Kushina suddenly jumped to her feet. The half-formed plait Kakashi had woven sprang loose like an explosion of fire. "I hate that guy! When are we leaving?"

"As soon as you can-"

"Great!" Kushina dashed past him and out of the room, sliding across the polished floor to the foot of the stairs. "Sensei! I'm borrowing your umbrella!"

"That's fine," shouted his disembodied voice. "Just put it back when you're done with it."

Kushina reappeared triumphantly with the umbrella in hand, brandishing it like a warrior's halberd. The formidable steel tip was let down only by the pattern of cartoon rainbows on its white canvas. "I'm ready," she declared.

"Do you need your equipment?" he asked. "We could be tracking this guy for a while."

Patting her pouch, she said, "A kunoichi is always ready and prepared," which somewhat belied how long this particularly kunoichi took in the bathroom to do her hair and skin care regime every morning.

After turning on the TV and steering Kakashi in front of it, they set off towards the gates, each feeling in extraordinary high spirits; Kushina, because she so rarely ever got an opportunity to show off her skills to Minato; and Minato, because Kushina was more stoked about this mission than any girl had ever been about a date with him. Even the news that Ai was also on the team didn't seem to deter her. "If I refused to work with everyone who didn't like me, I'd have way more time to weed my garden." It seemed quite a sad thing to say in Minato's opinion. He had never really understood why anyone would snub such a wonderful, intelligent, and beautiful –

And he really needed to stop thinking like that if he was going to get through this mission.

At the gates, Ai and Saburou were waiting. But whatever fragile peace Minato had managed to broker between them came perilously close to breaking again when Ai laid eyes on Kushina beneath the bobbing shade of her umbrella. "You've got to be kidding me," she said, loudly enough that even Kushina with her indomitable spirit wavered.

"Is there a problem?" Minato asked pleasantly. Ai would probably be far more useful for this mission than Kushina, but he wasn't above dropping her back where he'd found her if she was going to antagonise Kushina like the old days.

"You're bringing your girlfriend? Seriously?" Ai's lip lifted in a faint sneer.

"Kushina isn't my girlfriend," Minato said, repeating something he'd been saying since he was ten. "And I'd like you all to get along, please."

Ai shrugged indifferently, but she kept her distance from Kushina like she carried some contagious disease. Kushina didn't seem to care for her much either, but as long as it didn't interfere in the mission, Minato was confident they could at least cooperate until completion. He took out the scroll and passed around the photo of the target: some chunin in his thirties who'd never gotten very far. Kushina commented it was odd that a chunin could be responsible for all the attacks and had managed to evade not only the military police but some of the best jonin in the village. Ai, who might not have disagreed if anyone else had pointed that out, quickly retorted that average nobodies were the most likely to commit such crimes. To which Kushina responded that she was a chunin too and did not feel the need to kidnap and kill people, though she could speak for another chunin like Ai, who might have been talking from personal experience.

Minato coughed. "The investigation has already been completed," he reminded. "We don't need to ask who or why. We have to catch this guy and bring him down before he falls off the radar and starts killing again."

Kushina turned curiously to him. "By 'bring him down', you mean..."

"We terminate him," he said, nodding.

"Is that necessary?"

"Oh, here we go," smirked Ai.

"So I'm not leaping for joy about killing someone I know nothing about," Kushina ground out, turning on Ai. "That doesn't make me a coward!"

"No, not a coward," she said, "They call you people 'pacifists' these days, don't they?"

The hand clutching her umbrella tightened, and in that second Minato really believed Kushina was about to swing it at her. "I may have made a mistake," he said reluctantly, giving Kushina an apologetic look, though she only blinked back in confusion. "If you're not comfortable with the mission, you don't have to come."

But Kushina was on the warpath now. One look at Ai's smirking face and she turned red with angry determination. "It's not a problem," she said in clipped tones.

Though she was probably only saying that because Ai was there. Minato looked uncertainly between their glaring, scowling faces and sighed. He'd miscalculated. To kick one or the other off the team now would be a disaster. Kushina would never forgive him. Ai would certainly be glad never to look at him again. Why did women have to be so difficult? No wonder Jiraiya couldn't write good female characters – anticipating their reactions was a science not easily mastered. Some of this was totally beyond his comprehension.

"Well," said Minato, edging slightly more towards Saburou's much more predictable and reassuring bulk. "This guy Kamina fled the village through these gates about six hours ago. The trail won't have gone cold yet. Ai...?"

"Shoe size?" she asked shortly.

"Ten."

Ai walked back and forth beneath the gate, staring hard at the tracks in the dry, sandy ground, giving Kushina and her umbrella a wide berth. They were all trained to track this way, but Ai had perfected tracking to her own particular art-form. Jiraiya had always said that she was a hunter-nin just waiting to happen.

"Size tens, heading towards the forest," Ai announced, pointing a finger towards the treeline. "A few hours old. Definitely running."

Minato nodded once. "Let's go."

They set off at a flying speed, Ai taking up the lead with her eyes glued to the ground. She never once needed to pause and never lost sight of the tracks. Her prickly personality was a small price to pay for such a swift trek, and at this rate they might just catch up with their target before the day was out. He looked back at Kushina to make sure she was keeping up. She met his gaze coolly, then stuck out her tongue. He snorted with laughter, causing Ai to shoot a charred look at him over her shoulder.

A straightforward path through the forest was unusual for someone on the run who probably didn't want to be followed. There were no attempts to cover the tracks or lay decoy marks or double back. It made Minato wonder if the guy they were following was so good as to have fooled even Ai, or if he was a moron who didn't know any academy-level techniques to hide a trail. At least Ai was sure she was right. "These are _real_ tracks," she said. "And they're fresher. He's slowed down so we could catch up to him soon."

"Good. Then this will be over once and for all," Minato said.

"Maybe you should have brought Ren along," Kushina said. "This was his mission too, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's busy doing his own thing." It wasn't like Minato had even thought to check. "Besides, he only teamed up because the Hokage said so."

"And he didn't say so this time?" she asked flatly.

"Well... the Hokage didn't give me the mission this time," he said. "It was Orochimaru."

"That snake?" Ai scoffed. "Creeps the hell out of me."

"The mission is from him?" Kushina sounded uncertain. "I thought only the Hokage could give execution orders against Konoha citizens?"

Minato shrugged. "The Hokage approved it. The scroll's got his seal on it." As far as he was concerned, that was all that was required. Kushina still looked a little perturbed, but her questions subsided and she sank into scowling concentration.

The day was getting hotter, and as they left the cover of the forest to cross thousands of acres of rice paddies, it was taking its toll a little on Kushina who had never coped well with heat. Perhaps growing up in the cooler climate of the Whirlpool village had been bad training for a life in the humid countryside around Konoha. It was one of the things about her that drew scorn. Even now Ai was glancing smugly over her shoulder at Kushina's lagging form and putting on a spurt of extra speed to widen the distance.

By the time Kushina's cheeks had turned quite a strong pink, Minato called for a break. "I need a drink," he said, and he removed his flask to take _one_ sip of his water before handing the entire thing over to Kushina. She took it gratefully enough, but made quite a show of wiping any trace of his spit off the flask's neck before she would drink from it. Then she tipped the bottle back and downed all its contents.

Saburou drank too, which might have been a show of moral support for Kushina, since Ai refused to take any sustenance. Instead, she had decided to stand as rigid as possible at the head of the group, arms folded in a defiant display that said the only thing she needed was to keep moving.

After he was sure Kushina was as well watered as any of her garden begonias, Minato gave the signal to move on again.

* * *

Towards late afternoon, the trail began to slow. They were approaching a small town nestled between two ugly lumps of cliff, and at this natural bottle-neck in the landscape the traffic was increasing. Ai was having trouble following their target's tracks.

When they finally entered the town and stepped onto hardened concrete paving, the trail was lost entirely.

"It's ok," he reassured Ai, who was looking severely miffed. "If he went through here there may be some witnesses."

They began asking around, which was a little more difficult than anticipated since many of the people who saw them coming always seemed to suddenly realise they were needed elsewhere. The ones they managed to corner were all terse in their denials that they had seen any other shinobi come through the town. It was normal for civilians outside the hidden villages to be wary of ninja, but Minato wondered why _he_ was drawing the most furtive looks when someone like Saburou was far more intimidating to see.

"What's going on?" he murmured to Kushina, after the tenth old lady shuffled back into her house and shut the door when she saw him approaching.

"I suppose the problem with cultivating a fearsome reputation like the Yellow Flash is that it's not just your enemies who fear you," she responded mildly.

"That can't be it," he sighed. "I've never been here before. How would they know what the Yellow Flash looks like?"

"They don't," she said simply. "Every blonde guy in a Konoha uniform is riding on your coattails right now, you know. You should hear Inoichi go on about how often he's mistaken for you. It's gone to his head so much, I think he really believes he was the one who took down General Akuze sometimes."

Minato folded his arms. "Huh!"

They traipsed further through the town. While Ai scoured the ground for familiar tracks, Saburou sombrely flashed Kamina's picture to everyone they passed. Minato walked in his considerable shadow where he might be less noticeable, and Kushina brought up the rear, looking around anxiously at the people and their houses and their little gardens. The troubled expression she'd worn since he'd announced the exact nature of this mission had never left her face, and she grew more restless as they moved.

"The victims," she said eventually. "What happened to them?"

Minato hesitated before answering. "Dead," he said, voice heavy. "They're all dead."

"Even... even the children?" she whispered.

He nodded.

"Orochimaru found their bodies then?" she asked.

"No," he said slowly, trying to remember what Orochimaru had told him exactly. The sannin had been pretty vague. "I don't think the bodies were recovered. I'm not sure they can be recovered."

Kushina said nothing. When he looked back at her, her face shone pale beneath the shade of her umbrella. "That's horrible," she said quietly. "That's..."

"Over here!" Ai was standing next to a man in a broad straw hat, waving at them. "This guy says he saw a Konoha shinobi heading that way!"

The trail was on again. Following the man's directions, they headed along a narrow street that ran directly beneath the northern cliff face. The ground was softer there. Ai reckoned she had picked up their target's tracks again, though by the time they came out on the far side of the town, the tracks had once more vanished. The team came to a stop again, looking around a little uselessly.

"_More of them. Seen more ninja today than I've seen in my life, I have._"

Minato spun to the source of the voice – a middle-aged woman sitting outside her shop with a friend, fanning her face and looking as curiously at him as he looked at her. "Excuse me," he called, jogging over, "Have you seen any other ninja from Konoha today?"

"As it happens," she said, pointing beyond a distant house surrounded by a neat square of uniform trees. "Saw your friend going up the hill towards the orchard a little while ago. Kana here just came that way. Said he was still there when she saw him, and that were half an hour ago."

The rest of his team were already off and running. Minato thanked the woman quickly and sped after them. Their target had been running blind all day and night. He had to have tired by now, worn thin by desperation and adrenaline. They used the house beside the orchard as cover, and Minato signalled the others to stay back. Creeping silently to the edge of the building, he peered around it into the grove beyond.

A heap of a man in a Konoha uniform lay in the grass beneath the trees, bathed in the dappled light of late afternoon. Sleeping? For a split second he fought down a hard, biting rage. This was the man who had kidnapped and killed countless numbers of his own people. Men, women, children, tiny newborn infants. He'd led the best minds of the village in rings for months. Now, at the end, he _slept_?

Everything in his training told him that the easiest, most logical solution was to take advantage of this man's slumber and kill him before he ever woke up. The scroll in his pocket even demanded that he be executed on sight. But men like this didn't deserve to die in their sleep. He deserved to face his punishment, feel the terror of death upon him, know what he'd done, and who would do it to him.

He looked at Kushina and wondered what she would make of these thoughts of his.

"One chance," he said to his team softly. "No mistakes."

They nodded their understanding, faces set and serious. He signalled each of them to find their positions; they would surround the orchard and block every escape route. This man would have nowhere left to run. Once the trap was set, he moved, stepping out from behind the wall to approach the prone figure on the ground. The moss, soft and wet, masked any sound his footsteps might have made.

There was a strange, soft hissing noise that grew louder as Minato closed in on him. Some kind of snake? He frowned and came to a stop directly above Kamina.

But he wasn't asleep.

Eyes wide and staring, his mouth was moving. An unending, hissing stream of whispers issued from his mouth like escaping gas, too fast and quiet to understand. Minato stared. Was the man insane?

"Hey," he called, gripping his kunai tightly. "Time to face the consequences, Kamina."

When the mad, muttering man didn't respond, Minato gave his side a hard shove with his foot.

Kamina reacted liked he'd been injected with a bolt of electricity. He surged to his feet, knives flashing in wild sweeps just inches from Minato's nose. "Leave me alone," he cried, eyes bulging. "_Leave me alone!_"

He turned and fled, but Minato stayed his ground. It was too late for Kamina. The chase was over either way.

Kamina lurched towards the orchard fence, reaching out to vault it. A whistle was his only warning before a spray of senbon rained down on his path, driving him. Ai emerged, twenty more needles between her fingers ready to aim again. "Where you going, Kamina?"

With a half-crazed scream the man slipped in the moss and scrambled away, heading for the west fence. Uncoordinated and scared to death. Was this what a calculating serial killer looked like in the end?

Saburou appeared to cut off his escape, flexing the knuckle-dusters in his hands. The sight of him alone was enough to send Kamina reeling backward with a terrified yelp to the only escape he had left. And that was where he met Kushina, standing firm with only her umbrella. He faltered, perhaps knowing instinctively that here was an individual even more formidable than the enormous man behind him. But it didn't stop him. Only insanity or ignorance would have made a man run at Uzumaki Kushina with a knife, screaming that he would end her.

Kushina didn't blink. She didn't even move. When Kamina was just feet away from her and lifting his arm to strike, only then did she trouble herself to react.

The umbrella snapped open between them like an impenetrable shield of rainbows. Minato heard Kamina cry out is he collided against it and Kushina gave him a great shove, jabbing the steel capped tip of the umbrella painfully in the man's stomach. Just as quickly, the umbrella snapped shut again, revealing Kushina's grim face. Kamina didn't stand a chance. Before he could recover from being winded, Kushina swung the umbrella again in a wide, heavy arc, slamming it bluntly against the side of his head.

Kamina dropped like a doll. The knife bounced away in the grass. Around them, birds snapped their beaks shut in fright as leaves and branches parted ways with the trees and fell to earth, split by the cutting force of Kushina's swing.

Minato relaxed his grip on his throwing knife without ever realising he'd reached for it. The last time he'd seen Kushina fight was as a child, and it was safe to say... she'd improved since then. No wonder Ren had fallen in love with her during the war. There was something strangely charming about watching a girl beat a man into submission with her brolly, although perhaps that was just how Minato felt about anything concerning Kushina.

She wouldn't kill Kamina though. She'd pinned the stunned lunatic to the ground with her foot, but she would leave the dirty business to someone else. The kunai settled comfortably in Minato's hand. He strode over, ready to end the man's life in one quick stroke.

He wasn't cruel, after all.

Kushina saw him approaching and thw frown knitting her brow deepened. "Minato..."

The moment he was within reach he crouched swiftly, grabbing Kamina's hair to pull his head back and expose his throat.

Kushina jerked, thrusting the umbrella between him and his victim. "Minato, wait!"

Minato stilled and looked up at her blankly. He might have loved her, but that didn't mean he appreciated her interfering in the mission.

"Not yet," she said. "We need answers."

"That's not part of the mission," he informed her.

"Have a heart, Minato!" she cried. "Where are his victims? Ask him!"

Ai was jogging over with Saburou. "What's going on? What's _her_ problem now?"

"They're dead," Minato reminded Kushina patiently. "There's no poi-"

"Don't you dare tell me there's no point!" she snarled at him. "Their bodies don't deserve to be lost and forgotten! No more mass graves! We find those people, and we give them back to the people who loved them so they can be buried with dignity! With respect!"

At once he knew why it bothered her so much. He understood, but... "You're letting your feelings about your mother get in the way of your work," he said quietly.

Four things happened then in quick succession. Saburou tugged on Ai's sleeve, gesturing something urgent to her the same moment Kushina's hand whipped out and clapped Minato around the head like a cat to its kitten, a small sting that was a fraction of the hurt she felt. Before Minato could react, Kamina recovered from the stunning blow she'd landed on him, saw his attacker and lashed out wildly, ramming his fist into her nose. Minato swiftly smashed the heel of his kunai against the man's face, cracking two teeth.

When he looked up he saw Kushina wheeling away silently, hand clutched over her nose but unable to stem the alarming amount of blood that leaked between her fingers. "Saburou," he called, nodding to Kushina. He wanted to attend her himself, but there was no way he was letting this dangerous killer up and Saburou was the only one of the four with any medical jutsu. "Ai, help me restrain him."

She obliged, kneeling on one of Kamina's hands while Minato pinned the other. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Make an inquiry," he muttered, grabbing Kamina around his bloodied jaw. "So how about it? Where are they, Kamina? Where are the people you killed?"

Kamina snorted and gurgled blood. "_Not going back... not going back_..."

Ai looked deeply unimpressed with the direction this mission had taken. "Just kill him already."

"Where are their bodies?" Minato persisted.

Kamina's response was to screw up his face and begin to cry.

"Well, that was informative," Ai sighed.

"He's insane," Minato observed. Some might feel that was stating the obvious, but the fact troubled him. He found it hard to believe such a mess of a man could ever have managed to do what this mission scroll claimed.

"Or he's under a genjutsu," said Ai.

Minato turned to her astonished. "What did you say?"

"Saburou seems to think so anyway," jerking her chin at their large teammate. "He thinks you broke it when you first touched him with your foot, but it's still messing him up in the head maybe. Bad genjutsu can do that to you, even when it's over."

"Why would he be under a genjutsu?" he wondered aloud.

"Beats me. Maybe someone managed to put it on him when he fled the village? What does it matter, though? Just kill him."

Ai was right. It probably didn't matter, and he really ought to conclude the mission now before anyone else got a bloodied nose or worse, but Minato found his gaze straying back to where Kushina stood with Saburou, insisting that she was fine. She'd told him to have a heart. Well, he had one thankyouverymuch, but he understood her meaning. And perhaps there was merit in pausing to understand a situation before taking actions that could not be undone.

Minato turned back to Kamina, giving the man a firm shake to try and snap him out of his pitiful snivelling. "Where are they, Kamina? Where are the bodies?"

Kamina shook his head, his choking sobs growing harder. "Please let me go, I'll do anything."

"I can make you a deal," Minato lied. "Tell me where they are, and I'll let you live."

"No, please!" Kamina gasped. "Please, kill me! I just want it to be over!"

Ai rolled her eyes. "Well, he_ is _asking for it..."

And it was a strange request for a man who'd run so far and hard. However, if death was what he sought, Minato could provide it. "First you have to tell me where they are," he said steadily.

The strangled sobs began to subside. "Underground," Kamina wheezed stiffly. "They're still screaming."

An unpleasant chill made Minato's skin crawl. "Screaming... are they still alive?"

Kamina whimpered. "Not all of them..."

Minato yanked hard on his hair. "_Where_?" he demanded. "Where are they?"

"It was underground! I can't stop them screaming! No one hears! I can't... I c-ch..."

In his effort to speak, Kamina was turning red. And not just red – he was turning purple. Ai looked uncertainly between him and Minato. "What's going on?"

Minato pressed his fingers to Kamina's throat. "His heart's racing," he muttered. "He's going into arrest... Saburou! First aid over here, please!"

As their larger teammate returned, Ai stared incredulously at Minato. "You're joking. Let him die! He as good as confessed!"

"You heard him, Ai! If the victims are still alive, we need to find them and _he_ is the only one who knows!"

She blanched. "But the mission-"

"The mission is off," Minato said shortly. "Saburou, can you do anything?"

The silent giant crouched down and pressed a hand over Kamina's fluttering chest. It only took him a moment before he was shaking his head and withdrawing. Perhaps a fully trained medic-nin might have been able to do something, but this was beyond Saburou's limited abilities.

"Not even CPR?" Minato asked a little desperately.

Saburou shook his head again and pointed to something on Kamina's arm which was pinned beneath Ai's knee. They all leaned close to look. "What is that?" Ai demanded, standing up sharply, for she was not a big fan of sitting on things she didn't understand.

Minato grabbed the limb, staring hard at fiery mark crawling across the flesh of Kamina's inner-arm. "That's a suicide jutsu," he whispered.

At that very moment Kamina's labouring breaths ceased and his body shuddered into stillness. The silence was palpable. Minato checked for a pulse, even though he knew it would be no good. Suicide jutsu couldn't be stopped or reversed once activated.

Ai stared at Kamina in outrage, "What the hell? What was someone like him doing with a suicide jutsu?"

Minato sat back, suddenly tired. That old, familiar sense of futility was threatening to engulf him. He never could seem to get this mission right, could he? "I heard sometimes the other jonin used them in the war... it's so that if you're ever captured, it'll activate and kill you before you give up any secrets."

"Oh, good," ranted Ai, throwing her hands up. "Nice to see we wasted our time."

"And sthometimes," lisped a nasal voice that Minato had almost forgotten, "ninja usthe them on othersth to forcthe them into sthecrecy againsth their will on pain of deafth. Ow."

Behind them Kushina had found a seat on an overturned wheelbarrow, still clutching her bloody nose with her head back as far as it would go. Minato quickly jumped to his feet and hurried to her side. "Are you ok?" he asked at last.

"Do I look ok?" asked the girl whose aqua blue tunic had been turned largely brown by blood.

"Has it stopped bleeding yet?"

"No," she said sulkily.

Minato rummaged though his pouches for a handkerchief. "Here," he said, holding it out.

She narrowed her eyes dubiously.

"It's clean!" he promised, easy her red encrusted hand away from her face to replace it with the soft cotton cloth. He held it there as gently as possible while his other hand slipped through her silken lava tresses to lightly cradle the back of her head. A small, guilty pleasure. Kushina frowned slightly at such familiar handling, but Minato was too busy examining her reddened nose to notice what his errant hands were up to. He gave a sympathetic wince. "Looks broken, Kushina."

"How embarassthing," she sighed. "You sthave a guy'sth life and thatsth how he repaysth you?"

"Yeah, well... I think you may have done the right thing," he admitted. "Thank you."

Her whirlpool blue-green eyes locked with his steadily. "And you," she returned. "You too."

"For all the good it did," he sighed bleakly, looking back at the purple, mottled corpse that Ai was poking with her toe.

"We destroy the body, right?" Ai called.

"I think we should take it back with us," Minato called back. "In one piece."

Ai gave him a flat look of disgust. "You're just not happy unless you've violated every letter of the mission, huh?"

Minato shrugged. He turned back to Kushina. "Will you be ok?"

She flicked her eyes skyward. "Good grief," she sighed, chasing his hands away with her own. "It'sth only a broken nosthe. What do you want to do? Carry me home?"

Honestly, Minato would have done so in a heartbeat if he thought she'd let him.

* * *

They arrived back at Konoha's gates in the early hours of the morning. Ai and Saburou (the latter carrying a discreetly wrapped bundle over his shoulder that might have been a carpet if you didn't look too closely) parted ways to deliver their target to the high security morgue to be picked over by specialists. In a situation like this, Minato would be expected to report straight to Orochimaru. There was, however, a slightly more urgent matter to attend to: Kushina's beautiful nose was broken, and Minato could not rest until he'd found the best medic in the village to fix it.

"I'm fine, I'll just go to the hospital!" Kushina protested. She still looked an alarming sight. The blood had stopped flowing, but it still crusted her face and hands and covered most of her vest.

"The hospital is full of quacks who can't even write in straight lines," Minato informed her. "You are _not_ going to them. You'll have a wonky nose forever."

"I don't care," she insisted. "Wonky noses have character, don't they? I like 'em."

"Yes, you could have the wonkiest nose in the village and you'd still put every other girl to shame."

"Alright, no need to be sarcastic," she grumbled, mistaking what he felt had been a very sincere statement. "I'm just saying, I don't mind going to the hospital."

"Well, tough. You're going to Tsunade-sama."

"Not her!" Kushina quailed, coming to a full stop in the middle of the street. "She'll break my leg as payment!"

"She's not that bad," he promised. "She's my sensei's teammate. She'll help you."

"She's terrifying."

"So are you. You should get on great together."

Kushina huffed. "Maybe I should break _your_ nose?" she asked menacingly.

He smiled. "See? Terrifying."

Having spent many a day in his youth helping his sensei stake out his teammate's house, Minato sadly knew exactly where Tsunade lived. He wondered if it was even a good idea to knock on her door at eight in the morning. If she was still in bed and didn't like being woken up, they definitely would leave with broken legs. And broken arms. And fractured skulls.

But Kushina's nose was worth any injury or loss of limb.

Still, he was pretty surprised and relieved when it wasn't Tsunade who opened to door to them, but Jiraiya.

"Sensei!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, Minato," Jiraiya offered him a thin smile that was cold and perfunctory. Minato had never seen it before. "Do you need something?"

"Um..." he gestured towards Kushina, who had positioned herself well back from the door, presumably so that if Tsunade had decided to devour one of them, Minato was the more immediate target. "Kushina's injured. I was hoping Tsunade-sama might heal her..."

"I'm fine really, though," Kushina said.

Jiraiya glanced at her mess of a nose, rather short on cheesy chat-up lines this morning. "Perhaps now isn't a good time," he said. "The hospital will be open..."

"Is everything alright?" Minato asked.

"Jiraiya?" called a voice further in the house. "Who is it?"

"Just Minato."

Tsunade appeared in the doorway beside her teammate, and Minato almost took a step back in shock.

Once upon a time, Minato had thought the 'thousand yard stare' was some trite expression that only existed in the fiction books from the library. Then he'd gone to war and he'd learned what it meant to look into the faces of men and women who had seen too much and had begun to shut down. There was no way three words could do justice to the condition someone was left in when their mind fled its mortal shell. He'd hoped he would never have to see it again, and certainly not in a great sannin as she looked out onto her porch and saw neither him nor Kushina.

Minato knew immediately something awful had happened. If it wasn't her suddenly aged face that told of it, one might also notice she was wearing the same clothes she had left the village in two days ago, and how they were now drenched in old, dried blood.

"What is it?" she asked heavily, her unfocused gaze passing between the two youths and lingering with visible discomfort on the blood staining Kushina's face and hands.

"We were just wondering if you could fix Kushina's nose..." Minato said, though he had already realised she wouldn't. Couldn't.

Tsunade was shaking her head, retreating indoors. "No. _No_. Go away. I am done with this."

Jiraiya hovered, looking torn between shutting the door in their faces and explaining. "Dan passed away," he said, a startling passive way of putting it given how much of his blood Tsunade was wearing. "I've spent the last four hours trying to convince her to shower, so you'll have to excuse us. You should go to the hospital."

The door snapped shut in his face before Minato could recover enough from his shock to recite the same old apologies one was expected to give upon hearing such news. He turned slowly to Kushina who stood with a hand clasped to her mouth. "That's awful," she whispered. "They were going to get married soon... they were going to have children. That's too cruel, Minato. That's way too cruel."

Moisture was gathering in her eyes. He could see she was close to tears.

He reached out to take her hand. "It's ok."

She saw it coming and demurred excellently, managing to slip out of his reach without even appearing to do so consciously. "I think I'll make my own way to the hospital," she said, looking away from him. "Maybe you should go report to Orochimaru?"

"Right." Minato got the feeling than in the last ten seconds he had somehow managed to offend her. He was pretty used to that feeling, however. "I'll see you around."

They parted ways, subdued and introspective. Minato wondered if Kushina would be ok on her own, though he knew that she was usually far more capable about these things than him. But it was Tsunade's look that haunted him as he made his way towards Orochimaru's laboratory. It was like she had lost everything. Was it ever possible that one person could ever mean that much to another? When Minato thought about how he would feel if he lost someone he loved – Jiraiya – or Kushina – he felt nothing. That was a pain he couldn't fathom. Yet after seeing it in Tsunade's face, Minato was uncomfortably aware of the mortality of their profession.

Death struck blindly and without warning. There was rarely time to ready yourself or prepare for loss. One death could create a world of pain for the one left behind, and Minato hoped never to experience that. It did, however, make him understand a little more about why Kushina had challenged him so strongly on their mission. She _knew_ that pain. She'd lost her mother and her whole village, and it still hurt her. She knew that each one of those victims of the serial killer was someone else's devastation.

So when Minato went to Orochimaru, it was not to dust off his hands and say 'mission accomplished'. Kamina may have been dead, but the matter was far from being over.

Orochimaru greeted him at the entrance of his lab with the characteristic smile that never seemed to leave his face. "Back already, I see?" he murmured softly. "Is Kamina dead?"

Minato nodded.

"The Hokage will be pleased." Orochimaru bowed low and turned to go back inside.

"It's not that simple," Minato interrupted, making him pause. "We caught up to Kamina, but we didn't kill him."

Orochimaru's fixed smile never slipped, but his eyes narrowed contemplatively on Minato. "Your orders were to execute him on sight."

"I decided to question him first."

"Did you now?" Orochimaru stepped away from the door to stand on the step above Minato. He'd always been a tall man, but now Minato's neck risked getting a crick.

"I thought it would be prudent to find out where he left his victims. But when we were questioning him, it triggered a suicide jutsu. He died. We brought his body back for autopsy."

"You were supposed to destroy it," Orochimaru reminded him delicately, his tone as clear and cutting as glass.

"There were too many anomalies," Minato explained, his scalp crawling with the way the sannin was looking at him. "He was under a genjutsu when we found him, and it's highly unlikely a chunin of his level would know a suicide jutsu of that class. Also, he told us..."

Orochimaru's head moved sharply. "_What_ did he tell you?"

"Are you sure all the victims are dead?"

"Perfectly."

"Kamina seemed to think some were still alive. If that's true, we need to find them."

Orochimaru leaned in so close Minato could feel his breath fan across his face. It didn't smell unpleasant. It didn't smell of anything at all, really. "The man was insane," he said. "And you're forgetting there is no 'we'. This is my mission, Minato-kun, I merely contracted your abilities for a short while because I had it under good authority that you were efficient and obedient and would bring this matter to a swift and clean conclusion. But since I now understand your talents have been exaggerated, I _don't_ think I shall be using you again."

"I'm just telling you what I heard," Minato said, growing hot with indignance. "None of it seems to add up. I'm not even sure we had the right guy."

One thin, black eyebrow arched in scorn. "You're doubting me?"

"It's just that the last time I thought I had the guy, it turned out all I had caught was a puppet. What if Kamina is the same? What if he wasn't the killer? He was just another victim?"

"You've been out of the loop for a while, boy," Orochimaru said with a light sneer. "All the evidence pointed to Kamina and my investigation was meticulous. Your swaggering bravado will not work with me, but if you feel I've made an oversight, please feel free to take it up with the Hokage. He has more patience than I to explain adult matters to ignorant children."

"Perhaps I will," Minato said through partially clenched teeth.

"Well then," Orochimaru began to turn again.

Minato lifted his chin. "What about our deal?"

"And which one would that be?" mused the sannin.

"About... my father."

"I told you I would need your blood for that," said Orochimaru, looking at him closely. "Are you willing?"

Minato nodded slowly.

"Then hold out your arm."

"Here?" Minato looked around. They were still on the street here.

"Where else?" When Minato proved slow in offering his arm, Orochimaru seized it and jerked him forward. He produced something from his pocket, but Minato didn't get a good look at it before it had been stabbed right through the cloth of his sleeve, through his skin and into his vein.

"Ah!" he cried, from the shock more than the pain. What was that man doing carrying needles around on his person? He didn't just _look_ like a vampire. He _was _a vampire!

"Hush." Orochimaru whipped his hand away almost as quickly, disappearing a small tube of blood into his pouch. "I shall get back to you soon... perhaps. Don't hold out too much hope. You bear a remarkably strong resemblance to a carpet salesman that once visited the village about eighteen years ago."

"Oh god..." Minato clenched a hand over his punctured arm and the growing stain of blood. "Could I have a bandage or something?"

For the second time that morning, a door was soundly slammed in his face.

* * *

TBC


	16. Teachers

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Sixteen: Teachers

* * *

Kushina proved to be a remarkably fast healer. Even the doctors and medics who had once expressed shock at Minato's rapid improvement in the past were left further staggered that Kushina's broken nose could fix itself in just a couple of days without even any residual bruising. As usual, Kushina was a little uncomfortable when people made a fuss of her – she was not interested that the medic-nin believed her rate of cellular regeneration defied all laws of nature and required further study. She brushed off any amazement bestowed upon her like an unwelcome sales pitch, and Minato didn't care either; he was just glad that her nose was as pretty as it always had been.

All in all, for their first mission together it hadn't turned out too badly, though in other ways it had proved to be disappointing. There was no further word from Orochimaru about the investigation Minato had called into question. As far as the Hokage was concerned, there had been no further deaths and the evidence against Kamina – the man severely addled by one hell of a powerful genjutsu and killed by a suicide jutsu above his abilities – was absolute. The matter was closed. Minato was praised for catching the killer and his repeated insistence that the village should continue to search for the victims were brushed off. Their case slipped down the list of village priorities by the day, as every day that passed made it less and less likely there could be any survivors.

Nor was there any word about the arrangement Minato had made with Orochimaru. Though Minato had offered his blood for the express wish of finding a paternal match, the pasty faced sannin had never gotten back to him. How long did it take to run such tests? A week? A month? Three? Minato patiently waited, but nothing happened.

Eventually he grudgingly accepted that Orochimaru had either forgotten or had been unsuccessful, and since he still wasn't sure he wanted to know his parentage, he didn't bother to approach him again. He would let sleeping dogs lie. Having gone through most of his life untroubled by thoughts of who his father might be, he reckoned he would continue to cope. Sure, he may have had the odd little fantasy when he was a boy feeling particularly disenchanted with the caretaker fate had assigned him. Sometimes he may have dreamed that his father – perhaps a kage or someone equally powerful and important – would show up one day to take him away. So it was probably a good thing his father remained unknown. Anyone less than a kage at this point, which was certainly bound to be the case, wouldn't measure up to his childhood fantasies.

But this was not the primary source of Minato's concerns right then.

That autumn several changes came over Konoha. There were the natural ones, like the increasingly chilly days and the metamorphosis of the trees and forests in and around the village that almost overnight turned from green to every shade of red and gold. Kushina bought a scarf the same shade of turquoise as her remarkable eyes, and once again Minato was reminded of how far she'd come since she was a child. To see her in her dash to the shops for milk in her stylish scarf and hat would make anyone think the grubby red-head who had arrived in the village almost ten years ago must have been some other girl.

Then there were the unwelcome changes. Autumn was also the time of year when the genin were due to graduate, and when that happened they would need to be assigned a jonin teacher and subsequently tested. Minato always wished to be spared the process, but sometimes there simply weren't enough volunteers among jonin to turn to teaching. Every year it was always touch and go of who the Hokage would choose to conscript… and sometimes there was a fair bit of kicking and screaming involved. Not just from the children. And that year, Inoichi had it under good authority from a nameless source that Minato's name was being tossed around as a candidate.

But this wasn't the only unpleasant prospect Minato heard his name connected to. There was also the matter of some new 'exchange' programs popping up between the villages.

During peace time there were always little token gestures of goodwill between former enemies, and the latest fad was apparently to swap one or two jonin for a few months. The purpose, the official pamphlet read, was to promote better cultural understandings between the villages, and jonin who were exchanged were encouraged to learn and immerse themselves so that their experiences would enrich their own villages upon return.

It was all quite pointless. Minato couldn't see the benefits for espionage _at all_. Better to go undercover and learn genuinely helpful things than go as part of some official program and have everyone watch every move you made and filter everything you might see and learn. There wasn't a village that didn't already have half a dozen spies in every other village anyway, so fully immersed in cultural understanding that they were indistinguishable from the locals. Official exchanges were just too troublesome. Minato would rather not be the one sent over to a former enemy's stronghold where even he would be utterly vulnerable, yet Shikaku was the one to tell him that, as Minato was one of Konoha's youngest and most impressive jonin of their generation, the Hokage would want to send him abroad to show him off.

There was one other change that came to them that season that affected them on a most personal level. In their profession they had to come to terms with the fact that death struck often, and fast, and without warning, but never had they expected it to strike one so close to them, and to one so vulnerable.

The day had started typically enough. Minato was working on one of many unfinished reports, and Mikoto had popped round for 'Girl Time' with Kushina.

"I always get the pain the day before. I swear it never used to hurt this much. When I was eight, it was fine." Mikoto touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth as she leant over Kushina's hand with a tiny bottle of nail polish.

"Eight?" Kushina watched her work carefully.

"That's when mine started. It was way easier to deal with back then."

"That's so young…"

"It surprised everyone. My mother thought she had plenty of time before I needed the talk, so when it happened I just assumed I was dying. When did yours start?"

Kushina flapped her hand to dry the blue polish and replied, "Right before the chunin exam. I remember I had to forfeit."

"Did you freak out like I did?"

"What did you do?"

"I started writing my will, just to make sure everyone understood my horrible brother wasn't going to get my stuff. Then I grabbed a bouquet and went to bed in my best dress so that when they found my body in the morning, I'd at least look respectable. Then my grandmother found me and we had to hold this family party the next day to celebrate me entering 'womanhood'. It was pretty traumatic."

"… well, the centre never told me about that stuff. But I remember my mother talking about it, and sensei's wife recognised my cramps before I did. Apart from the pain, it never worried me."

"The pain is the worst, mostly because Fugaku keeps giving me grief over 'hormones'. Well, I think he'd be moody too if he felt like a savage, wild animal was periodically trying to claw its way out of his belly. Do you ever get that feeling?"

Kushina swallowed. "Some… times."

Through the archway in the kitchen, a rather uncomfortable blond coughed pointedly over his half-written report. Mikoto looked over the back of the settee at him. "Maybe we should change the subject?"

"Minato's fine," Kushina said dismissively. "He just doesn't like people to forget he's supposed to be the centre of attention."

"If you like I can paint your nails too," Mikoto offered to him, waving a bright red bottle of polish.

"He prefers pink," Kushina informed her.

Mikoto shrugged. "Sorry, fresh out. It's not a good colour for girls with our complexion, but come to think of it, it _does_ go rather well with blue-eyed bubblegum blondes. I'll remember to bring some next time."

"That's not necessary, thank you," Minato sighed, tugging just a little bit desperately on his hair. Reports were hard enough to write as it was – he'd never been particularly good at articulating himself, and as a jonin people expected him to do it a lot – and it didn't help when two girls insisted on talking about distractedly girly stuff behind him. He would have gone to his room if his desk hadn't been permanently buried under previous reports and assorted junk since May, so all he had left was the kitchen table.

"He works hard, doesn't he?" Mikoto went on, as if Minato couldn't hear them, and apparently unaware that all he'd written in the last half hour was one sentence that scorned all notions of grammar. "If he's not careful, he'll burn out. Geniuses are like that."

Kushina was the only witness to the fact that Minato vegged out in front of the TV more often than not, so she made a distinctly contradictory sound. "He's fine," she said again. "Ren's the one I'm worried about."

Minato propped his chin in his palm and glowered vaguely in the direction of the fridge. Going from womanly matters to boyfriends was _not_ an improvement in the conversation, in his opinion. This was always the problem when Kushina got together with Mikoto, since for some reason Kushina usually avoided talking about Ren to him, it all came out in the company of a fellow female.

"What's wrong with Ren?" Mikoto asked.

Kushina's shoulders jerked up in a puzzled shrug. "Wish I knew. He's been kinda weird lately. Asking me out all the time, asking what I'm doing, where I'm going… he was determined to hang out here today until I said that I planned to hang with you."

"He wants to spend time with you," Mikoto said. "Count yourself lucky. I hardly see Fugaku."

"Yeah, but I don't get the feeling he wants to spend time with me because he _wants_ to be with me. He just seems kind of annoyed if he doesn't know where I am or where I've been." Kushina sighed. "Can you do my toes?"

"Put your feet up-"

"Don't get any on the sofa-"

"I'll put a magazine down, don't worry."

Minato heard the crackle of paper as Mikoto spread out one of the Perfect Gardener magazines over the cushions. He wished they both cared less about toe nails and more about Kushina's much more interesting comment about Ren, and for a few seconds he thought it would be forgotten until Mikoto settled down and began painting again. "That _does_ sound a bit possessive," she said lightly. "Some guys can be like that. You don't find it flattering?"

"It's annoying," Kushina said, two words which brought more joy to Minato's heart than she could know. "He's only been like this lately, for the last couple of weeks. He's started to bug me about moving in with him too."

Minato's spine snapped upright. _What the-?_

"But he _knows_ how hard I've worked on this house. I'm not moving into his messy little apartment."

Minato relaxed a fraction, but not by much. A new fear had been seeded in his brain. Kushina may not have wanted to move, but what was there to stop her kicking _him_ out and moving her boyfriend in instead?

"Maybe that's your problem then. He could be worried you're not taking the relationship seriously."

"I'm taking it seriously," Kushina replied stubbornly.

"He's an older guy, Kushina," Mikoto said as she blew on the other girl's toes, "and you've been together a long time. He probably expects things by now…"

"Like what?"

"Like… have you even slept together yet?"

The report blurred before Minato's eyes. Had she really said that? He waited for Kushina's response, not daring to breathe. It was a question he'd been wondering to himself for a long time, after all, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answer.

Some kind of hissing exchange ensued behind him. It sounded like Kushina had said something in a whisper too quiet for Minato to catch, though Mikoto's response was much louder. "What? Minato? He doesn't mind, he's a big boy. Isn't that right, Minato?"

He swallowed. "What?" he called nonchalantly, pretending he hadn't been eavesdropping on their conversation as if his life depended on it.

Mikoto ignored him, concentrating her interrogation on Kushina. "It's a normal, healthy part of relationships," she went on. "You shouldn't be afraid of intimacy, especially if it's hurting your relationship."

"I-I'm not afraid," Kushina said, flicking a nervous glance in Minato's direction. "I just… don't want to talk about it with big ears over there."

"What?" Minato said vaguely, trying and failing to sound like he didn't care what they were discussing.

"You don't mind, do you?" Mikoto asked innocently, as only a married woman could about such a matter.

"N-Not at all," he stammered, unnerved by those earnest black eyes.

"Hey," Kushina cried angrily at him. "You wouldn't like it if she was interrogating you over _your_ love life."

Well, that was an easy one. "I don't have a love life," he said virtuously. "I am an unplucked blossom."

"That's not what Yoshino says," Mikoto told him.

He had heard what his former girlfriend had said about him, and considering the reasons they had broken up, a lot of it was strangely flattering in that it was totally exaggerated. He tried not to correct anyone about it, however. Yoshino had her pride and if she wanted people to think they'd been torrid lovers instead of like two cold fish in an icebox that was her lookout. The only drawback was that now people suspected him of being a spectacular stud… or in Kushina's case, a shameless one.

"Yoshino and I never went all the way," Minato said. "And I think that's fine. Great, in fact. If you're not ready, you totally don't have to do it. Ever. Because, you know, just because you're going out with someone doesn't mean they're the _one_ or you have to do things you're not comfortable doing. And if they're pressuring you, you have to dump them immediately."

He was looking meaningfully at Kushina as he said this. She must have sensed his poorly disguised lecture for her eyes narrowed on him.

"Well," Mikoto exclaimed, looking astonished. "So the village's most exalted lover is a virgin? That's… surprising."

"It's always best to wait for the right one to come along," he said sagely.

"Perhaps," Mikoto said in muted agreement, perhaps considering that she had had no such option. Her husband had been chosen for her.

Kushina's eyes narrowed even further. "What makes you think Ren isn't the right one?" she asked him.

Minato gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I didn't say that."

"You inferred it."

"Did I?" Minato feigned innocence. "You're the one complaining about him stalking you. Doesn't sound like he's the right one to me. He doesn't even sound right in the head."

"Well, you'd know all about that." Kushina stood abruptly, leaving Mikoto frantically juggling her bottle of nail polish. "Excuse me, I think the guinea pigs need feeding."

Blue nails flashing, she stomped out the door. Mikoto shot a curious look at Minato who was doing a bad job of contriving blamelessness. "You don't approve of Ren," she observed.

"I don't approve of boyfriends who try to pressure her into things," he rebuked.

Mikoto frowned. "But that's not what Kushina said. Ren's been very respectful of Kushina's boundaries so far. Even though I think it would be good for her to stop holding him at arm's length, I don't think that's what this is about. In fact, I'm pretty sure the reason he's getting antsy is because of you."

"Me?" Minato raised his hands. "What did I do?"

"I don't know. Rumours seem to follow you wherever you go, and after your… enlightening speech about Yoshino, I know I can't place much stock in them all, but recently there's been a lot of rumours about you and Kushina."

"Me and Kushina?" He knew he was only parroting her words back at her. That was all the cognisance he was capable of right at that moment.

"It's only natural, I suppose," she said patiently. "You live together, you're close friends and always have been. It's been going around lately that there's more to it than that, and I'm sure Ren is just feeling a little insecure right now, although he really should trust Kushina more."

"Wait – does Kushina know about these rumours?" he asked.

Mikoto nodded. "We've talked about them."

"What does she think of them?"

"She hates gossip of all kinds, especially the kind which isn't true."

Right. Not at all true. Not even in the slightest. Minato dropped his chin back into his palm. "Hey, Mikoto…?"

"Mm?"

"Do you really think Ren is the right one for her?" he asked.

"Why not?" she responded with a light smile. "He's a jonin, the nephew of the Hokage. He's kind, patient, and very sweet. Not many people give Kushina a chance or bother to understand her… there aren't many men like him."

That was all very well and good… "But is he the right one?"

"I don't think there is any particular _one, _Minato. I think if you find someone and you're compatible, that's usually enough. Ren could be very good for her if she just let him in a little more, and stopped giving him reason to worry her heart's not in the relationship."

"What if her heart isn't in the relationship?" he asked, just a touch more hopefully than he should have.

Mikoto merely looked as if the thought hadn't occurred to her. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Her previous words returned to him. "You think she holds him at arm's length."

"She does that to everyone, don't you think?" Mikoto smiled sweetly.

"Not to me."

Her smile turned incredulously. "Especially you!"

Outrageous! Minato shook his head violently "No way."

"Don't take it personally. You should know by now the more she cares about someone, the more carefully she treads around them."

Minato frowned in confusion. "So when you say… 'especially you'…?"

Mikoto's smile was now indecently sly, and he would have loved to know her next words had Kushina not suddenly rushed back into the house, cradling a limp golden shape in her hands. "Something's wrong with the Flasher," she said, white with distress, "He's not breathing right and he won't move!"

* * *

A guinea pig's life was worth exactly seventy-two ryo in total. Given freely as a gift from Minato's then-girlfriend Yoshino, to end his life peacefully the miniature Yellow Flash had cost Minato more than a week's wages, because he was the only one foolish enough to have brought money to the vet.

Minato thought Inuzuka Tsume's brother had overcharged them shamelessly when a hammer might have sufficed, but one look at Kushina's face told him that the rodent – now beyond saving – had won a special place in her heart and was going to get a better end than most of them would or could ever afford.

He hoped the other guinea pig was gobbled by the fox before it too decided to bleed his wallet dry.

The only possible upside to this was that now Kushina, reeling from the loss of a beloved pet, might need a shoulder to cry on or a nice pair of masculine arms to be held in, and for once Ren was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, Kushina had never been into hurt and comfort, and for her all her mercy towards the suffering of even the smallest creatures, she was still first and foremost a Practical Girl. Her biggest concern was not for herself, but for someone else entirely.

"Kakashi's going to be heartbroken," she said, standing outside the veterinary surgery with a tastefully plain shoebox. She was staring at it morosely. "We should tell him… he'll want to be there when we bury him."

Which would no doubt it would be a grand send off, eulogised by the Hokage himself. Minato wished he could be as sincere in grief as Kushina was, but if he hadn't been able to shed tears for his own father, he didn't think it would be appropriate to mourn for one marginally sweet tempered rodent. Moreover, while he himself might not feel much loss, he knew that to a child this kind of thing could be devastating.

"Do you think it's a good idea to tell Kakashi?" Minato asked her.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Kids and death… are you sure he'll understand? Maybe you should just get a new one and hope he doesn't notice."

Kushina rolled her eyes. "He's five, not an idiot. _And_ he's a genin."

"A genin outside of wartime," he pointed out. "That means something a little different than the kind of genin we used to be. He's never seen death-"

"But he will one day, won't he? You really think we should protect him from the death of a guinea pig when the average ninja takes a life by age fifteen? How's he going to prepare himself for the future if we shelter him from something like this?" Even so, she blew out a conflicted sigh. She tilted her head back to look at him, and her mouth parted open to add something more when her gaze slid past him. At once she saw something that made her straighten and turn remarkably pale.

Minato followed her gaze curiously. Approaching them with purpose was an old woman dressed in elaborate clothes and accompanied by a couple of younger women who looked like they could have been some kind of attendants or a lot of brow-beaten daughters. How odd. Minato glanced back at Kushina, wondering if she knew the woman, and discovered his red-headed friend had retreated behind him.

Not that this fooled the old woman. "Kushina," she said, bringing her train to a halt directly before them.

After a hefty pause, Kushina ducked into an awkward bow. "Biwako-sama," she said.

Minato snapped around to stare at the old woman again. Biwako? As in, the Hokage's wife? Ren's aunt?

"You missed your appointment," Biwako said severely.

And then Kushina did something very strange: she stuttered. "M-My guinea pig-"

"I did not come for excuses," the Hokage's wife said, fixing a sharp glare on her. "You know your responsibilities. Come with me now and we shall say no more about this, and don't you dare let me ever catch you sneaking off again."

"Kushina wasn't sneaking." Minato had no idea what appointment they were referring to or why Kushina would know Biwako personally at all, but he knew Kushina took responsibilities seriously. She did not _sneak_.

"Minato, it's ok," Kushina said quietly not looking at him. "Could you deal with the Yellow Flasher home for me?"

He dutifully accepted the shoebox as one receiving the ashes of a beloved friend, though the moment Biwako heard his name, her eagle-eyed stare switched onto him. "Namikaze Minato?"

Uh-oh. "Yes?" he asked, feeling doomed.

"My husband wants to see you as soon as possible," she said.

"Right, but could I just take-"

"As soon as possible," she repeated, slower and more forcefully. Minato quickly stepped out of her way as she swooped forward, arm out as if to lay it across Kushina's shoulders without actually touching her, shooing the girl into motion, sleeves billowing. Kushina's dismayed face vanished behind her hair, and without a chance to explain, she was spirited away.

What on earth was that about? The Hokage's wife was an extremely formidable kunoichi, but what would she want with Kushina?

Unless this was something about Ren? Minato's mind began to race to all the scariest conclusions. The Hokage and his wife were, after all, Ren's aunt and uncle, practically his parents in fact since Ren had been an orphan. It wasn't so strange that Kushina would know them, but what did the woman mean by an 'appointment'? Was the relationship between Kushina and Ren so serious that these appointments related to… marriage services?

Clutching the shoebox tightly to his chest and forgetting its contents, Minato did his best not to hyperventilate. To see the Hokage – that was his task. Rodent coffin and all, he began to make his towards the Hokage's tower, and by the time he reached the entrance his head was full of confetti and big white dresses and towering tiered cakes and a laughing Kushina and a smug-faced Ren. Minato had seen some horrors in his time, but this one would haunt his dreams for weeks. _Months _even.

He had to be getting ahead of himself. Kushina would have mentioned if the relationship with Ren was progressing that way, however much she disliked discussing Ren with him in general. Last he'd heard – that very morning, in fact – his dogged coveting of her had begun to irritate, but then again, if the guy was proposing they move in together, perhaps he wasn't that far proposing, _period._

"Earth to Minato!"

Minato snapped out of his nightmare. Without realising it he'd arrived in the foyer of the Hokage Tower and Ai of all people was standing before him, frowning up at him.

"Huh?" he said intelligently.

"What's in the box?"

"A dead guinea pig," he explained blankly.

"Oh… kay." She drew back at least a foot. "And what are you doing here with a dead 'pig?"

"I'm here to see the Hokage."

"About a dead 'pig? You jonin are paid too much."

"Ye– no." Minato shook himself. He couldn't succumb to fear! "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for missions," she said, shifting her weight to one leg as she folded her arms. "You don't have any you need help with, do you? The last one was pretty whack, but it was fun, I guess."

"Missions?" he repeated, trying to remember his schedule. "No, I don't think so. It's been pretty slow lately."

"Peace time," Ai said with a sneering nod. "What would I give for a decent war to break out right now?"

Well, that was one way to look at it.

"So I heard you and Yoshino broke up," Ai suddenly said. The change of subject threw Minato for another loop. "What's that about anyway?"

Minato tried to formulate a response, but he was still seeing Ren and Kushina joining hands over an alter. "I, uh…" he searched for some memory of the one named 'Yoshino'. "We weren't right for one another."

"She didn't like you crushing on Kushina?" Ai asked, eyebrows raised like she was testing him.

"Kushina's my friend," he said, as he always said, and it _was_ true even if what she said was true too. "And she's getting pretty serious about Sarutobi Ren." Which was a truth that churned his guts.

Ai tilted her head. "So you don't have a girlfriend?"

"No." And since when had Ai ever expressed an interest in who he dated? He guessed this was just her idea of small talk, since it had been so long since they'd talked at all. The mission together had broken the ice that had grown between them in the last few years, though he wouldn't have called it a roaring success at reconnection. Still, they were talking, and neither was shouting or making snide remarks, so this was a vast improvement on the old days.

"I don't have a boyfriend either," Ai said.

"Ok." If she wanted him to express shock, she wasn't going to get it.

After a beat of silence, Ai rolled her eyes. "Could you do me a favour," she said, "and hold out your box like this?"

She mimicked holding something off her to her far right, and out of dumb curiosity, Minato obliged, wondering what the point was.

It turned out the point was so that Ai could step forward and kiss him sounding on the lips without a dead animal in the way. Now that was a surprise. All the anguish over imagining Kushina's wedding was suddenly booted out of his brain via the backdoor. Strangely, he was now more concerned that people were stopping to stare at them than he was with the pressure of the female lips against his own.

And – oh hell – was that Hatake Sakumo walking past, raising an eyebrow at him?

Minato leaned back a little, just enough to break the kiss as politely as possible, and then he proceeded to stare at her, assuming she had lost her mind. The shoebox crept back between them as Minato returned it to his chest, holding it there just a little defensively, like one might clutch a cross when confronted with a vampire.

Ai made a sound like she judged the kiss to be mostly adequate. Stepping around him she said, "Tell me if any cool missions come up, ok?"

Minato watched her depart, even more baffled by this than the revelation that Kushina knew the elusive wife of the Hokage. Wasn't Ai supposed to hate him? Did… did Ai actually _like_ him?

How awful.

A receptionist tapped him on the shoulder, rousing Minato from his shell-shocked state. "The Hokage wants to see you," he said. "You can go up and wait outside his suite."

Minato teetered up the stairs to the top of the tower where he gladly sank into a chair in the waiting area. With the Yellow Flasher's box resting on the seat beside him, he wondered why girls seemed to only ever want to drive him crazy. While he should have been worrying about what the Hokage had in store for him _this_ time, he was instead worrying if should look out for further molestations from Ai in future, or whether he should worry that Ren's intentions had turned more serious than he'd anticipated. He ran a hand through his hair.

The Hokage was already meeting with someone; Minato could hear muffled voices from behind the office door. Having come on such short notice he didn't expect to be seen immediately, and so he sat back, prepared to bide his time… mostly worrying about girls.

Then the door flung open.

Minato bolted upright the same time the Hokage's eyes lit upon him. "Ah ha!" He sounded inordinately pleased. "Speak of the devil, here he is. See? _Very reliable._"

The man he was talking to was none other than Hatake Sakumo. He took one look at Minato with the same expression he'd worn when their gazes met over the top of Ai's head in the foyer, and then he turned to the Hokage, slashing the air with his palm. "No. Absolutely. Not."

"I think you're being unreasonable," the Hokage said to him. The two men now appeared to have forgotten Minato was sitting there. "No one comes better qualified."

"He's too young."

"Jiraiya was the same age."

"Hokage-sama, you know I trust and respect your judgement in most things, but this I cannot consent to. He's a bad influence and a poor role model."

Minato wanted to rebut such unwarranted criticism, he just didn't know what he was being criticised for exactly. As far as he could tell, the Hokage had summoned him here to have his character assassinated by a man he had long suspected had never liked him.

"On the contrary," the Hokage said cheerfully, "Minato is a very nice young man with a knack for inspiring the youth of the village. Most people would jump at this kind of opportunity, and if you don't settle on a teacher for your son very soon there'll be the inevitable problems… bored geniuses are a recipe for destructive behaviour. Who better to channel and guide him than someone who understands it from personal experience?"

Both men looked expectantly at Minato. Then a third person peered around the doorframe, small and dark-eyed, who stared with the unmitigated curiosity and confidence of a child who understood his place in the world and knew exactly how favoured he was.

Suddenly it was quite clear why he'd been called here. At long last… he had failed to dodge the teaching draft. But instead of being randomly assigned a squad of academy-fresh genin as he had expected, he was going to be given the village's latest boy genius: Hatake Kakashi.

Minato slid his gaze back up to Kushina's sensei. The boy he didn't mind, but the _father_…?

"There must be someone more suitable," Sakumo all but pleaded.

The Hokage just chortled blithely, "I think you do Minato an injustice. Why don't we all step into my office and see if we can't come to an arrangement. Minato?"

Seeing as he didn't have much of a choice but to subject himself to even more abuse, Minato sighed and followed the Hokage's beckoning hand. Inside the office he was invited to draw a chair up to the desk beside Sakumo, while Kakashi clambered at once into the Hokage's chair and the Hokage himself consented to standing by the window. It had been a long time since Minato had felt this awkward in the Hokage's presence, and between Kakashi's unrelenting stare and Sakumo's mildly disdainful silence, Minato found himself wishing strongly that Kushina was there to mediate as she always did so well.

"You know each other already, of course?" The Hokage asked.

"Of course," agreed Hatake Sakumo. He obviously didn't want to be accused of holding contempt for a relative stranger. It was far more reasonable if Minato was a casual acquaintance.

"And I'm sure you've heard quite a bit about the Yellow Flash," the Hokage said to Kakashi, bending to speak to him like an old advisor to a child emperor. "How do you feel about having Minato here as your teacher?"

Sakumo shifted in his seat. "Hokage-sama-" he began to object, but his own son cut him off.

"I'd like it very much, sir."

Although distinctly miffed that no one here had yet asked Minato if he was willing to become a teacher, Kakashi's blunt sincerity touched him. Blinking back his surprise, Minato managed a warm smile. A long time ago he'd spent one horribly long summer tutoring Kushina, and if he could handle that, Kakashi couldn't be too difficult. Still, he had the same sinking feeling that his free time was going to be slowly sapped away.

And the kid stared at him way too much.

"With all due respect, it isn't up to Kakashi," said Sakumo.

"Of course, of course." The Hokage appeared to be distracted by something outside the window. Though Minato tried to see what captivated him so much, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. "If you'll both excuse me, just a moment."

He stepped out onto the balcony and promptly walked out of sight.

In the beat of silence that followed in the office, Minato glanced at Sakumo, Sakumo examined his nails, and Kakashi (naturally) stared at Minato. They gave the Hokage the benefit of the doubt, waiting for him to reappear, but after the long seconds dragged by, they realised they'd been abandoned to sort this out between themselves. A crafty, underhanded trick… but what did one expect from the leading ninja in a village full of crafty, underhanded ninja?

Minato shifted self-consciously in his chair, sneaking another sideways peek at the older jonin who returned his look with one of muted exasperation. "Look, I didn't know I was coming here for this," he said defensively to Sakumo, "I certainly didn't want to become a teacher."

"Oh, teaching my son is a bother, is it?" he suggested mordantly.

"N-no, it would be a pleasure, I'm sure-"

"Namikaze, you're crawling."

Minato's mouth snapped shut. Minato could charm almost everyone he met, and he did so on a daily basis without thinking, but it hadn't escaped his notice that Kushina's sensei was not only impervious to this talent but seemed to take offence to it. Nothing he could ever do would please this man, who had always (according to Kushina) suspected him of narcissism and a promiscuous streak, and at the moment Minato was in no position to argue what with having been caught kissing Ai of all people downstairs not fifteen minutes ago.

Kakashi grew bored and dropped from the Hokage's chair to begin exploring the strange gifts of state from various daimyou and foreign kage around the edges of the office, including one extremely rare cactus that only bloomed once every twenty-five years (he plucked the budding blossoms off to tear them open and see what colour petals they would be) and one priceless writing desk that once belonged to a famous shinobi poet from the earth country (varnished by the wax of a now extinct variety of hybrid bee, which Kakashi idly began scratching his name into).

It was testament to how tense the two men were that neither noticed.

"The girl downstairs," Sakumo began slowly, "that was your teammate, wasn't it?"

"Ai? She is, yes… sometimes." Minato compressed a small sigh. He didn't know what he was going to say to her the next time they met, or whether he'd have the balls to invite her along on a mission again.

"You realise fraternisation is against the rules?"

"Yes, but that wasn't fraternisation."

Sakumo stared at him. "Excuse me?" he asked, chilly enough that the temperature almost literally dipped – though that could have just been Kakashi opening the office door behind them

"Fraternisation," Minato said, uncomfortably, "It's from 'fraternal'… that would mean I was treating her like a brother. I don't think that counts as brotherly behaviour."

Sakumo looked at him like the smart-ass he was. "If you did kiss your siblings like that I would worry."

"Since I have no siblings, I guess we'll never know."

Their mildly antagonistic conversation lapsed. Minato looked longing at the balcony, hoping the Hokage would appear soon to rescue him. When he didn't he forced himself to turn back to Kushina's sensei. "It's fine if you want someone else to teach Kakashi. I really don't have much experience, so I won't take it personally."

Sakumo propped his chin in his palm, apparently bored. "I'm sure you're talented enough," he said, which was the closest thing to a compliment Minato had ever heard him utter. "But don't mind me if I hesitate to open my son to the influence of any student who takes so strongly after Jiraiya."

"What does that mean?" Minato demanded.

"It'll be no good if you spend more time chasing skirts than teaching Kakashi, or worse - influencing him to do the same."

"I've never-!"

"There wasn't a day that went by when Kushina and Kagura weren't at each other's throats and hair over you. Between breaking up fights and trying to console two girls in tears, there wasn't much time left to teach. I know how you affect people."

"That's not my fault!" protested Minato. He'd had no idea that anyone had ever fought over him – certainly not Kushina. Back then she may have wanted to scratch Kagura's eyes out to get her to shut up about him, but she certainly never would have cried over him.

"Kakashi is an impressionable and sensitive boy, and from what I've seen you're careless with others' feelings which strikes me as a sign of your immaturity. I'm sure one day you'll be an exemplary teacher, but right now you're still a boy with his priority on girls instead of teaching. Kakashi needs stability and security, not a famous hero to worship, competing with countless others for your attention," Sakumo said; a short, damning condemnation that Minato had heard from others as well… which meant there had to be some element of truth to it. Perhaps the fact he'd never noticed Kagura and Kushina fighting or _crying_ over him was self-evident. "You take after your mother in more than just your looks. She was exactly the same."

Minato had endured a lifetime of 'your mother' jokes, most of which rolled off his back. Rare was it to find someone who claimed to have known her personally. Rarer still that such a person would insult her memory. "I never met her so I'll have to take your word for it," he responded stonily.

"You don't have to meet your parents to emulate them," said Sakumo. "You mimic your father's ninjutsu style closely, after all."

Minato was honestly puzzled. His father was a civilian and his knowledge of ninjutsu wouldn't fill a thimble. After a thoughtful pause, Minato looked at him closely. "You know who my _father _is?"

"Of course." Sakumo returned his puzzled frown. "You don't?"

When Minato quite emphatically shook his head, Sakumo sighed. "What kind of world are we living in," he remarked, "when they don't tell a boy who his parents are?"

It was hard to tell with Sakumo's insufferably deadpan expression when he was being serious and when he was poking fun, and given the animosity between them this was the latter. If he wanted the satisfaction of making Minato get on his knees to beg for the answer, he would be disappointed. If the greatest mad scientist in Konoha couldn't find the answer, Hatake Sakumo was unlikely to have been walking around with it in his pocket all this time.

So Minato said nothing, though he stared hard at the older jonin in a fashion not unlike his young son. Sakumo blinked slowly and shifted his gaze to the window, then smiled faintly at something he saw, although all that could be seen from this angle was the Hokage mountain and a couple of swallows swooping around for flies.

As suddenly and magically as he'd departed, the Hokage reappeared and stepped back into the office. Had he dealt with his business, or had he really just been standing against the wall outside for the last five minutes? "Well," he said, clapping his hands. "Have we come to a decision?"

Sakumo sat forward in his chair, exhaling slowly as if about to confess to something with only the greatest reluctance.

At that moment Kakashi came running into the office, diving between Sakumo and Minato's chair with a tasteful shoebox in his little hands. "Dad!" he shouted. "The Yellow Flasher's gone all stiff!"

The Great White Fang looked at the furry golden brick-like body in the box, at his son's stricken face, at the Hokage who was looking at Minato, and then finally at Minato, the real Yellow Flash, who was stiff enough to give the guinea pig a run for his money. He was also looking very hard at the wall.

"No," said Sakumo to the Hokage. "Absolutely. Not."

* * *

Minato leant on his shovel and wiped a little sweat from his brow. He'd finished stamping down the lawn as best he could, but now there was a mound in the middle of Kushina's verdant little garden that refused to be flattened. At least she would know where to put the headstone, he thought. What a lot of hassle for such a little body.

He went back inside to shower – the stink of failure was quite potent today – but before he went back to his room to dress he stopped in the doorway of Kushina's room. She'd left the door open for a change, and he wondered if she might be back. But whatever business the Hokage's wife had absconded her for was turning out to be pretty lengthy. It was close to dinnertime and she still hadn't returned.

Something Sakumo had said that afternoon returned to him. Was it really true that Kushina had fought over him with his first girlfriend? She'd never liked Kagura much so perhaps she had always taken whatever opportunity that presented itself to throttle her. Minato was sure the feeling had been mutual between them. But what if he'd been the primary source of enmity between them?

Then Sakumo had said that they'd cried over him. He knew it was true of Kagura, certainly after he'd tacitly dumped her once he'd understood how antagonistic she was towards Kushina whose friendship he had always seemed to prize above any other. But had Kushina really cried over him?

Why?

Entering her room was a little like stepping into a forbidden temple reserved only for women. If he was caught he'd be dealt with by the resident goddess in the most horrible manner possible, yet he always enjoyed a healthy dose of satisfaction from taking risks, and now his eyes roamed the room greedily. He loved Kushina, but he knew that didn't mean he always understood her. A lot of things about her left him confused; her unwavering respect for all life to the point of putting herself in danger for the sake of an apparent scumbag nutcase; what had caused her transformation from tomboy to girl-whose-dressing-table-groaned-under-the-weight-of-cosmetics; how she knew the Hokage's wife; and just why she got so annoyed when he put his toothbrush in _her _cup.

In his towel, he sat down at her dressing table and stole a little of her hair gel to smooth through his damp locks. It smelled like strawberries, but that was a small price to pay for fabulous volume.

There were lipstick marks on this mirror. Minato smiled to himself, to think of Kushina kissing the mirror. Did she do that for practise? He picked up the small tube that might have been responsible for the marks and twisted it. The smell intrigued him most – almost like chocolate. She'd probably taste delicious when kissed.

Pity only Ren would know.

Minato set it down again and opened her dresser drawer. That was where she kept her diary –he'd had its position memorised for a long time even though he'd never dared open it. But surely a little peak now wouldn't hurt? He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was truly alone, before unfastening the little lock that was more for show than function, and let it fall open on whatever day it chose.

_Tuesday 19__th__ – Plumber, 9:20_

Ah, he thought with a sense of deflation. It was one of _those_ kinds of diaries. He'd expected a window into Kushina's intimate ponderings, not her to-do list, though it seemed more in keeping with what he knew about her. A girl partially raised in an orphanage where privacy simply didn't exist was probably not in the habit of recording her thoughts in written form for nosy parkers like himself to read.

He inched the diary aside to look at some of the papers beneath. Kushina liked to draw sometimes even if her art skills made his look prodigious, and he'd been widely regarded as the worst artist at the academy. They were interesting to look at _because_ of how impossible they were to decipher. Was that a tree or some kind of mushroom? Those two blobs with chicken feet looked like her guinea pigs only because she'd thought to label them. There was a picture of some strange looking person with yellow hair being crushed with a boulder pushed off a cliff. Hmm. Perhaps she'd drawn that during one of those incidents when he'd left the toilet seat up?

The ones towards the bottom of the pile looked especially old, and those he'd never seen before. Not all of them were pictures either. Notes were scattered throughout the pile in her characteristically messy handwriting.

When he came across on sheet of stained paper where the writing turned small and neat, he actually grinned. That was his _own_ handwriting! Quickly scanning the contents he realised this was one of the letters he'd written to her during the war when they'd been separated on two different fronts. In this one he was telling her about his broken arm. He only vaguely recalled that event, but reading about it suddenly brought it all back – cracking the trick to Hiraishin, falling, being sold out to an assassin posing as a prostitute by one of his own supposed comrades.

What a strange week that had been.

There were more letters beneath it, and Minato was surprised that she had saved them. It was interesting to read his own words from years before and only now begin to remember the things and the people he had referred to. A lot of those faces from the Mist border had simply faded from memory…

"What are you doing?"

Minato jumped ever so guiltily. Kushina was standing in the door, scowling at him suspiciously. She'd managed to sneak up on him without making a sound… not many people could do that. Had she known he was up to no good the moment she'd come in the front door?

"Are you going through my things?" she demanded.

"N-No, I-" Guiltily stuffing papers back into a drawer was surprisingly hard while also clamping a towel firmly around his hips.

She strode over, but as she moved around him she paused and did a double-take. She'd caught scent of his redolent hair, and she leaned forward to sniff loudly. When she spied the open tube of lipstick on the dresser, she asked, "Have you been trying on my make-up?"

"No!" he protested. "I was just going through your things-"

"It's ok, if you want to try some blusher. It might suit you." She brandished a round brush at him, more threateningly than he liked. "How about some mascara?"

And risk her stabbing his eyes out? Minato quickly retreated from the dresser, half expecting her to bowl him out of her room like she normally would. Instead she just sat down, crushing the soft bristle of her brush against her palm, and for all appearances forgot him. No reprimand for rifling through her drawers? Not one admonishment for not being dressed?

Something clearly unsettling had happened today, and the death of the Yellow Flasher didn't cover it. There was no way she would ever accept him in her room without screaming the house down.

"What did Biwako want?" he asked her.

She slammed down the brush. "You're as bad as Ren! _'Where are you going?' 'What are you doing?' 'What did he want?_' Can't I do _one_ thing without having to explain myself to someone?" she growled, raking her hands harshly through her hair.

"Sure," he said, inching further towards the door. "I was just wondering…"

"Well, don't. You wouldn't like it if I bothered you about your day."

That wasn't normally true, but since today he had managed to grievously offend her sensei, traumatise one child, be molested by his teammate, _and_ ruin her lawn, he was glad she wasn't going to ask.

"Sometimes I wish I could just leave," Kushina said, staring dully at her reflection. Frayed hair was falling around her face. "This isn't really my village, you know. I had another one once… and I said I'd go back one day to rebuild it and I just keep putting it off. What am I waiting for, anyway? I'm not going to live forever and all I do here is waste time."

Minato almost dropped his towel in surprise. "You're not thinking of leaving."

Kushina paused, as if she'd only begun to consider it right this moment. Then she shrugged. "Why not? I don't belong here."

"Of course you do!" And what the hell had brought this on all of a sudden? "What did that woman say to you?"

"Nothing!" she shouted, which was quite obviously not true.

"Then why would you suddenly want to leave Konoha?"

"Why not? Give me _one_ reason to stay!"

"Why just one? How about Ren? Or me – where am I supposed to live if you leave? And what about that guinea pig down there – he just lost his only companion today and he needs you more than ever! Not to mention Kakashi! And even if he doesn't look it, I think your sensei needs you too! And who else is going to talk to Mikoto about all that… girl stuff?"

"This wasn't the plan!" she disputed. "I was never supposed to be trapped here, but then you – and Ren – and that _dratted_ woman-"

For once Kushina was rendered speechless with the force of her rage. She seethed and hissed and then snatched up a tiny porcelain cat sitting on the dresser and hurled it at the far wall. Minato moved fast, leaping over her bed to catch it before it became nothing more than a hundred tiny shards. As angry as Kushina was, he knew she would regret damaging any of her precious belongings.

"Stop that!" she commanded. "If I want to smash something, I'll smash it! It's just one more chain shackling me here to this damn village!"

Minato observed the cat in his hand and frowned. "What did Biwako say to you?"

Beside the dresser, Kushina's face crumpled and she pressed her hands to her forehead.

"You're not sick, are you?" he asked, worried. He knew little about Sarutobi Biwako, except that she was one of the foremost medic-nin in the village who had taught more than a few tricks to her husband's student, Tsunade. If Kushina was this distressed by a meeting with her…?

"I'm not sick," Kushina grunted. "Haven't you noticed? I'm _never_ sick."

It was true he'd never known her to catch a cold, but what did _that_ mean? "Ok, but then what…?"

"Minato, just leave it," she said tiredly. "Go away and put some clothes on or something."

He did indeed go away and put some clothes on, but when he returned, Kushina had firmly locked her door and refused to respond to any polite knocks. She'd shut him out, but he hoped that it would prove to be a fleeting tantrum and by tomorrow morning she would be back to her relatively perky self with all thoughts of leaving left behind her like a bad dream.

However, the Kushina who sat at the breakfast table the next day was a glum sight, and when he asked if she still wanted to leave the village she gave a solid grunt in the affirmative. All she was apparently lacking was a suitcase. Even Mikoto approached him after a while, worried about the ideas their mutual friend was expressing. Genuinely lost as to what could possibly have happened between her and Biwako that would drive her away, Minato tried to pry it out of her but she refused to say.

"If I tell you," she said. "I would have to kill you."

That was a joke people in their profession liked to make sometimes.

And sometimes it was actually true.

Just a phase, he told himself. Perhaps it hadn't worn off overnight, but soon she would realise how hasty she was being, and that rebuilding a village couldn't be done alone, not by one eighteen year old girl. There would be plenty of time to talk her down and make her realise she had a life here worth staying for, but then disaster struck.

Minato got a letter directly from the administration office.

_Congratulations!_ it said, as dread crawled up Minato's spine like tar. _You have been selected personally by the Hokage to take part in the Volunteer Exchange Program* with Suna. Along with Hatake Sakumo, you will be treated to an all expenses paid trip to the wind country to visit the Village Hidden in the Sand, where you will have the opportunity to relax and immerse yourselves in the local culture, as well as trade knowledge and skills** with the esteemed shinobi of the Sand! _

_Bon Voyage!_

_*Participation is mandatory._

_**Report to the administration office to receive an approved list of skills and jutsu you may impart. Divulgence of any unapproved secrets will result in strict punishment and/or death. _

* * *

TBC


	17. The Puppeteers

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Seventeen: The Puppeteers

* * *

The cart had not been a smooth ride, and Minato thought he had been sorely misled about the terrain of the wind country. There were songs about this place, that waxed on about the columns of sand dunes and the ever-changing face of the landscape, but the driver insisted that was only true to the far west of Suna. East of Suna, where they travelled, was only a flat, barren landscape where the parched earth cracked and the only signs of life were a couple of cacti and some dry, dead looking bushes.

Minato hid in the paltry shade of his hood, sweltering quietly. This was probably what Kushina felt like on those hot days in Konoha. Except down here nearer the equator, the sun seemed twice as large and twice as hot as the sun back home, and Minato had already finished his supply of water and had started on Sakumo's.

The older jonin didn't appear to mind. In fact he seemed impervious to the harsh climate of the desert, sitting bolt upright in his seat with his face turned into the light, eyes closed like a dozing lion. Of course, he was going to be far more at ease with this temperature since while Minato had been splashing around in the bogs of the far east during the war, Hatake Sakumo had been in this very desert, fighting Suna.

Given such a history, Minato wondered about the wisdom of sending someone like Sakumo on a peaceful exchange program. It had to be rather like sending Minato as part of a peaceful envoy to the Mist village, knowing he'd killed one of their finest generals, savaged their strongest outpost, and overall struck a very humiliating blow. The Hokage seemed to think it was an appropriate choice, however, and the Hokage's word was always final. Minato knew because he had done this best to wriggle out of this program for some very good reasons.

The first was that Hatake Sakumo didn't like him. They'd travelled together for three days now and it had been an almost entirely silent journey, save for that hour when Sakumo had listed all the things that could and would kill Minato in this country, ranging from flat-headed snakes and red flies, to simple things like standing outside for more than four hours without water (a list which Sakumo had enjoyed relaying far too much). It was true that after the guinea pig incident it was understandable for Sakumo to be especially frosty towards him, but altogether Minato thought very little harm had been done. Not when, after having the cruel facts of death spelled out for him, Kakashi had merely turned to Minato with wide eyes and asked when he would be getting a replacement pet.

The other reason was because he really hadn't wanted to leave Kushina behind.

When he'd left, he'd made her promise to put her troubling conviction to leave the village aside, at least until he got back. No one else he spoke to was taking it any more seriously than an ordinary tiff. Mikoto believed she'd had an argument with Ren, but her blues would soon wear off. Ren, when Minato forced himself to approach him, was flippant and refused to accept that there was anything wrong with Kushina at all – which Minato viewed as the best evidence that Ren was responsible, as well as a bastard. And when he had casually mentioned Kushina's compulsive plan to Sakumo as they set off for Suna, her teacher had merely shrugged and said, "She can't leave the village," as if that was that and there was no more to it.

So although Minato was faintly relieved when the high, sandstone walls of Suna appeared on the curved horizon, he was not the lightest of moods. He barely attended as Sakumo rattled off another list of must-not-dos, this time of all the things that were considered rude and antisocial in Suna culture. "The thumbs up gesture means something else here, so _don't_ use it under any circumstances. Don't point at people, don't show people the soles of your feet, don't do anything I don't do, refer to men with their surnames and women with their given names, and don't ever turn your back on the Kazekage when in his presence. Do you remember the Suna bow?"

"Yes, Sakumo-sensei," Minato sighed.

"Absolutely do not forget it."

The way into the village was through a passage that cut between some very tall, very crooked cliffs, and at the entrance of this passage a small delegation of elders were waiting for them. They wore smiles like they had two electrodes attached to their cheeks, and the effect was quite alarming, but while their unfriendly leers may have ghosted over him, it was Sakumo they fixed their sights on.

"Welcome to Suna. We are honoured to be graced with the presence of Konoha's most celebrated White Fang and Yellow Flash. Please won't you come this way?"

Like two hapless sheep being led into an abattoir, Minato and Sakumo entered.

* * *

If there was one impression Minato knew at once he would take home from Suna, it was 'sand'.

Sand on the ground, sand in the air, sand on the walls, between the stones, in the hair and inside the shoes. Against all reason, the people here wore more clothes than those in the cooler climate of Konoha. Almost everyone wore floor-length robes with white scarves wrapped loosely around their necks and shoulders like a shawl, and there was just something a little harder about these people. Konoha was filled with civilians and ninja who brightened every street with their vibrancy and diversity. In Suna, not only were they all dressed alike, Minato didn't think he ever once saw anyone smile, beyond the plastic expressions of their team of escorts.

Perhaps the people of Suna were perfectly jolly, it was just that they were wary of strangers. As they crossed the dusty, winding streets, people were prone to stop and stare at them as they passed in a way that would have been extremely rude back home. Was curious ogling the norm here? It seemed that most of them were looking at Sakumo, and this could have been because they recognised him, or because the man was quite a formidable figure. If he inspired any intimidation amongst the Suna citizens, Minato knew how they felt.

They were shown at once to their rooms in a palatial hotel and informed, with the utmost politeness and discretion, that they were not to leave until someone came for them. Then the doors were shut on their conjoined rooms, and the unmistakable sound of keys turning in locks echoed through the chambers.

"Are we supposed to be made to feel like prisoners of war?" Minato wondered.

"I'm sure they would say it's for our own safety," Sakumo said, throwing his backpack down on his bed. "The war between Konoha and Suna was especially bitter. There are probably many people in this village with a grudge who would love an opportunity to take out two Konoha nin."

"Everyone seems to know who you are," Minato said, unpacking his own bags. "You must have been pretty famous here during the war to-"

The door between his and Sakumo's room slammed shut, killing the conversation stone dead. Minato sighed and wandered around the edges of his room, examining his new accommodations. The writing desk was a nice touch, and the window had a spectacular view over the rooftops of the village, which was like looking out on a field of termite mounds.

And naturally in the course of his inspections he dismantled all the listening devices in his complimentary cactus and various light-fittings, and stuffed some toilet paper from the en suite bathroom into the hole in the wall where a spy camera was filming. After a quick shower to remove the grime of three days of travel in the desert, Minato settled down on his bed and picked up a rather prominently placed copy of a book entitled "The Grand and Proud History of the Great Nation of the Wind."

Well, if nothing else it was a good bedtime story, and before Minato knew it he was coming round to the sound of loud knocking on his door, his book having fallen on the floor long ago. The woman standing out in the hall shook her head emphatically at him when he opened the door. "No, no, no, this won't do," she declared, long-dark hair shimmying as she took in his short-sleeved shirt and cut-off pants. "You'll need to dress warmer than that, I'm afraid."

Minato had no idea who the hell she was, but she was clearly mad. "This is the desert," he protested.

"Yes, and it gets extremely cold at night, and since we're going out you'll need something warm to wear." She bustled past him and went to a chest of drawers that Minato had yet to open.

"Where are 'we' going?" he asked her.

"You and Hatake Sakumo have been invited at the Kazekage's pleasure to attend the Festival of Puppets," she explained, flapping out some clothing she'd found. "Here. This will do."

"That's not mine," Minato pointed out.

"If you wish to learn about Suna culture, first you must wear our clothes," she told him patiently.

He looked at the shapeless outfit which looked curiously like a dress. "Brown isn't my colour," he said.

Giving him a hard look, the woman replaced the robe and withdrew another set. "Perhaps you'd prefer lavender?"

"Oh, sure." Lavender brought out his eyes.

"Please hurry and change, I will be waiting for you outside." The woman bowed and started for the door again.

Minato quickly remember to ask her, "Who are you exactly?"

"My name is Rumiko and I will be your guide and escort throughout your stay here in Suna. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask for either myself or my husband, Rui, who is waiting on your friend next door."

Minato scoffed. "He's really not my friend," he said.

"No?" Rumiko's smiled twitched a little wider, perhaps a little more genuine. "Then you will get along just fine here."

As she shut the door to give him privacy once more, Minato wondered just what _that_ meant. He turned to the mirror and wiggled into his new dress, and spent several minutes doing his best to wrap the scarf around his shoulders the way he'd seen on the 'natives'. Eventually, satisfied he'd done his best, he stepped out into the hall.

Rumiko was indeed waiting for him, as was Sakumo and a tall red-haired man Minato assumed was Rui, the husband. If he'd also attempted to convince Sakumo to wear local clothing, he'd failed. Sakumo was dressed in the same fatigues he'd arrived in, obviously taking issue with the 'immerse oneself in local customs' suggestion in the pamphlet, and the look Sakumo gave him was one that said Minato had once again managed to sink even lower in his estimation.

"If we're all ready," Rumiko said pleasantly.

"What is this festival?" Minato asked her.

"The Festival of the Puppets? It's a time-honoured tradition of ours, and we're glad you arrived in time to witness it." Rumiko told him. "Puppetry is one of Suna's oldest crafts – not just for entertainment, but in warfare. It has become our trademark of sorts."

"Yes, I think I've heard of Suna's puppeteers," Minato confessed. He'd never crossed blades with anyone from this village, so their methods were a mostly alien to him.

"They certainly did their part in the war," Sakumo said darkly, "hiding in holes and pulling strings from a distance so they never had to face the people they killed."

Rumiko smiled at him with disconcerting amusement. "Surely you don't intend to accuse our people of cowardice?" she said. "While I'm sure in Konoha, nobility and honour precede everything including wisdom, in Suna we are not afraid to maximise our defences in any way possible. Our puppeteers are the reason our village still stands after waves of barbaric attacks. Konoha would do well to adopt similar strategies."

Oh, Minato was really beginning to miss home. He at least hoped Sakumo was done and wouldn't rise to the bait, and sure enough the other jonin stayed quiet for the rest of the trek through the streets while Rumiko talked almost non-stop about the village, the importance of the landmarks they passed, and the history of the festival they were heading to.

"Are you a puppeteer?" Minato asked politely, when she paused a moment to take a breath.

"No," she said. "Although Rui is rather good, and our son is prodigious. You should see him taking part of the display tonight."

"I look forward to it!" Minato said, and caught the withering look Sakumo shot him.

The festival was taking place in a square that was far larger than anything in Konoha. Crowds were packed around the edges of the plateau upon tiered benches, all their attention on the procession of performers circling like a trapped snake before the spectators. Every few seconds a paper lantern was lit and rose from the crowd to soar into the air, and when Minato looked up it was like the night sky was full of blazing orange stars. He was keen to dive in and try out some of those strange honey-glazed pears, or bribe someone into letting him have a go of one of the strange wooden marionettes that every third child seemed to be playing with. Rumiko had other ideas, however, and she marched them past the jovial crowds to a staircase leading up to an open terrace.

Two seats were waiting for them beside a man in the unmistakable robes of a kage.

"Kazekage-sama." Rumiko bowed and scraped her way to his side. "The ninja from Konoha are here."

Face consumed by the shadows of his wide-brimmed hat, the Kazekage acknowledged their presence by raising one elegant hand, never once turning in their direction. They were not so much 'honoured guests' perhaps, as they were a mild irritance to be endured, but at least the Kazekage didn't glare at them the way the red-headed man behind him did. He couldn't have been much older than Minato, though he stood like an elite jonin and was evidently some kind of right-hand man to the Kazekage, and every angle of his posture warned of hostility towards the pair from Konoha. Minato decided to avoid that one.

"How is the old monkey?" The Kazekage said, his voice low and measured. It was easy to see this voice belonged to one of the strongest, most ingenious shinobi in the world.

Not that Minato understood him. "Sorry?"

"Sarutobi."

"He's not so bad," Minato said politely, trying to contain his horror at such a nickname. The third world war would break out if it got back to Konoha that the Kazekage called the Hokage an 'old monkey'.

"You must be the Yellow Flash," the Kazekage went on. "We're heard a lot about you. You're the one who killed General Akuze?"

Minato shifted uncomfortably on his hard, flat, sandy seat. "Yes."

"That man was a thorn in our side during the war. It amuses me he fell to a brat with a girl's face." Without pausing to enjoy that Minato's mouth had literally dropped open, the Kazekage swiftly turned his attention to Sakumo. "White Fang. How is your dear wife?"

A muscle in Sakumo's jaw twitched. "As you know, Kazekage-sama, she is dead."

"Yes, of course. And by Masa's own hand, wasn't it?" The leader of the sand village gestured to the angry young man beside him, who glared daggers right back at them.

Dear god, what kind of hell had they walked into? Had the Hokage realised he was sending Hatake Sakumo off to play nice with the people who had killed his wife? If the knives started flying, Minato was going to be right in the middle of it, and now he rather regretted taking this seat between Sakumo and the Kazekage – the latter of whom was not finished winding everyone up. "Masa really should be thanking you, White Fang, as it was this triumph that made him my successor. If the rumours of you are true, Yellow Flash, one day you will be the fourth Hokage, and at that time perhaps Masa will be the fourth Kazekage."

Minato and Masa glanced at each other, and right then Minato strongly suspected there would never be peace between their two villages.

Ever.

The phenomenally tense silence that followed was broken when Rumiko suddenly leant forward to put a hand on Minato's shoulder. "There he is!" she said excitedly, pointing to a small figure in the festival procession who had to be controlling three life-sized puppets with absolute mastery. "There's our boy! Go Sasori!"

* * *

When the key turned in the lock, caging him in, Minato at once began to stride around his room, dismantling all the bugging devices that had been reset in their absence, and the moment he was done hanging a towel over the new camera hidden in a bowl of ornamental baubles, he strode right though to Sakumo's room to see him doing the same.

"This," he said emphatically, "was a _big_ mistake!"

"Didn't you enjoy the festival?" Sakumo asked dryly.

"Not when I was sandwiched between the killing intent of you and that lunatic who's going to be the next Kazekage!" Minato cried. "Why would the Hokage send you back here? Your presence here is far – _far-far-far_ – from peaceful!"

Sakumo shrugged out of his vest and laid it carefully on the bed. "We can't all be schmoozers."

"You shouldn't be here," Minato said. "We'll make some excuses and get you sent home tomorrow, because there's no way-"

"Are you telling me what to do?" Sakumo turned to him sharply, using his most icy, penetrating stare that had terrified Minato as a child. "Who do you think you are?"

Minato thumbed his forehead protector. "I'm a jonin, the same as you," he said, more bravely than he felt. "Neither of us can pull rank here, so let's not get into that. But even you can see we have a major problem on our hands. You're emotionally compromised. We're here on a mission of peace, and you're trading barbs with the Kazekage on the first day!"

"And as for yourself?" Sakumo asked coolly. "I seem to recall him saying you had a girl's face."

Minato coloured. "There's nothing wrong with having a girl's face." Indeed, half the human race managed to get by with such a handicap. "And you're avoiding the issue."

"Stop worrying about our purpose here," Sakumo told him, turning away to shake sand out of his sleeves. "This is a holiday for you, isn't it? Just sit back, enjoy the sights, suck up to whoever you like, and continue milking the success from that day you got lucky with Akuze. You do what you do best and everyone will be too in love with you to worry about what I'm doing."

That raised Minato's eyebrows. "And what are you doing?"

"Let's just say we're here for different reasons."

"Meaning?" Minato demanded.

"You're here to soothe war wounds and make allies. I'm here to make sure Suna is in no position to wage another attack."

"Oh, so we couldn't pass up the opportunity for free espionage? The Hokage still could have sent anyone for that reason – like someone without personal grudges against this village."

Sakumo gave him another look that would have made him wet his new lavender robes had he still been a genin. "I am _very_ good at my job," he said slowly, "and you would be hard pressed to find someone in Konoha who does not have a reason to hate Suna. Now turn in. You have a long week of romancing the enemy ahead of you."

Thus, Minato was banished back to his room. He was quite sure that later he heard or saw something outside his window that may have been Sakumo leaving for some reconnaissance, or may have been a Suna agent keeping a close watch since he insisted on removing all their surveillance devices. Whatever it was, Minato refused to concern himself.

He went to bed, only to end up tossing and turning for several hours. Unfamiliar bed had that effect on him, and he wasn't used to the intense dryness of the air that made his skin itch and crack. His concerns did the rest to keep his brain whirring like a loose box of livewires. It seemed so cynical to send someone like Hatake Sakumo on a mission of peace for the purpose of espionage and possibly even sabotage. Minato knew he himself had only been selected to counteract such a man. His reputation as a compromiser who drew people to him the way honey drew flies was going to make him a popular choice of ambassador. He disliked being used as a cover, however, especially being kept ignorant of that fact.

Minato pulled the pillow over his head and longed of home. Just a few more days, he promised himself, then he could go home, back to his own room and his own bed where there wasn't a speck of sand to be seen. Back to Kushina who would have gotten over whatever depressive fit she was in, and would be there waiting for him with a smile. If he was lucky, she would have baked him a cake to celebrate his return.

If he was _really_ lucky she would have broken up with Ren.

* * *

The itinerary for the next few days was dizzying. Rumiko led him with all the ferocity of a drill instructor through all the Must See sights of Suna. The first stop was a museum of warfare, where the grand history of the village was illustrated in gory detail. Then she took him to a restaurant to try out the local delicacy of desert hare and brown rice, which was spicy enough to make his eyes water, much to the good-natured delight of everyone who watched him – which was, needless to say, everyone in the restaurant. Minato attracted stares wherever he went and gradually he felt people were becoming less guarded around him. It possibly helped that Sakumo stayed behind at the hotel, claiming to have caught a stomach bug from the strange and possibly tainted foreign food. It was offensive and entirely untrue. Minato had no doubt Sakumo was off skulking around the village unescorted while everyone assumed he was laid up in bed.

At one point Minato was taken to some kind of training yard to observe some of Suna's finest while they sparred. It was blatant boastfulness of Suna's part. They wanted him to be impressed by the calibre of their fighters, and to be fair, Minato was quite pleasantly surprised even if he wasn't blown away. When he was invited to join in he had to decline. He was under strict orders not to demonstrate any of his own skills to Suna. If he were to lose in a sparring match it would be Konoha's disgrace, and if he were to win, it would be Suna's. Better to just politely shake his head and claim to be too tired.

Rumiko insisted on showing him the nightlife too. Suna, she said, had a very young and lively population. The majority of inhabitants were under twenty, and at night things could get very active.

This turned out to mostly be shadow puppet theatre.

Suna's youth had rather sedate tastes compared to that of Konoha, Minato decided, thinking back to people like Yamanaka Inoichi whose idea of a fun night was getting drunk and sticking certain appendages through the letterboxes of houses belonging to girls he liked.

By the third day, they were beginning to run out of sites to visit. While Sakumo continued to beg off sick, Minato was taken around administrative offices which were, frankly, more like a palace carved out of sandstone than an office. He wasn't permitted to see how the Kazekage's office compared to the Hokage's, but he was shown the parts open to visitors, including the hall dedicated to honouring the two former Kazekage. Their statues rose up proudly to the domed ceiling, but it wasn't quite the statement that Konoha's mountains made. Rumiko acknowledged this. "But I find a monument that dominates its village so much a little tasteless, don't you?"

The last place she took him before releasing him to explore at his leisure (providing he didn't notice the spies tracking him) was a strange building at the edge of the village. It stood like a crooked tower against the brown cliffs that enclosed Suna, and was guarded by what Minato guessed were the wind country's equivalent of ANBU.

"This," said Rumiko proudly, "is where we keep the Jinchuuriki."

Minato did a double-take. "Pardon?"

"Shukaku, the one-tailed beast. His host resides here."

Minato looked carefully at the building. A real jinchuuriki? "Can I... see him?"

Rumiko laughed. "Oh, no. Shukaku is very dangerous, it wouldn't be wise."

"But I've never seen a jinchuuriki before," Minato said, and it was one of the few times in his life that he consciously and quite deliberately tried to charm the socks off someone. He gave Rumiko his most winsome grin, like he was nothing more than a curious boy with a mischievous streak rather than an elite enemy jonin with a thirst to uncover one of Suna's most closely guarded secrets. "_Please_, Rumiko."

She shook her head, looking regretful. "Access is very restricted..." she said.

"I won't tell anyone here," he promised. "Just a little peek. Please? We have _nothing_ like this back in Konoha... everyone will be so jealous when I go home and tell them I got to see the one-tailed beast."

Appealing to her sense of nationalistic pride did the trick, and Rumiko caved with an indulgent laugh. "Just a quick look," she agreed.

She must have had pretty high clearance as the guards let her pass without a word. Paradoxically, the interior of the tower was hollowed out like an upturned ice cream cone, and the real entrance of Shukaku's residence was a trapdoor. Anticipation mounted in Minato as Rumiko guided him through a small labyrinth of narrow underground passages that would have made someone as tall as Sakumo duck in order to pass through them.

They descended further and further until the tunnel came to an abrupt end, opening into a chamber that rivalled the size of the hall honouring the Kazekage. There were more guards here, stationed around the edges of the room, but as far as Minato was concerned, it was empty. The wide floor was covered in sand, more than he would have considered normal for an underground lair, but that was all. He looked at Rumiko, about to ask her what the deal was, when he noticed she was looking up.

Minato followed her gaze and stiffened.

Suspended from the ceiling by chords of steel was a body. Like a puppet it was hung, contorted and tangled, wrapped in bandages and shackles. Archaic seals of binding covered his form and the cables looped around his limbs and chest. These were the heftiest fortifications Minato had ever seen, for what essentially looked like... a corpse.

"Is that...?" Minato breathed, unease tingling up his spine.

"Shukaku's host," Rumiko explained, just as quietly. She didn't appear to find this sight as creepy as him.

"He looks pretty human," Minato observed. He'd expected him to at least have the tail these beasts were so famous for. "Is he alive?"

Rumiko nodded. "Oh, yes."

"Then he's sleeping?"

"Oh, no," said Rumiko, now shaking her head. "He never sleeps. He _never_, ever sleeps."

Minato looked back at the dangling figure with greater apprehension. It was easier to imagine he was dead or unconscious than awake and listening to them.

"Shukaku has a special place in Suna's legends," Rumiko began, switching into her tour-guide mode. "It's said that he is the discontented spirit of an old monk who was sealed into a kettle. The man who released him became the first jinchuuriki and when one host dies he takes possession of a new one. Like all the tailed beasts he has a malicious disposition. Hosts are almost always driven insane... the force of such evil inside one, constantly whispering and screaming into the void... that's why they never sleep. You can give them all the sedatives in the world to calm them, but they will never sleep. This one was captured many years ago. He put up a great fight, but we've learned much from observing him. The Kazekage developed his feared iron sand technique after studying him."

Above them, the suspended host twitched. "You talk like he's an animal," Minato said.

Rumiko glanced at him, surprised. "That's what they are. They may look human but their natures are wild. You underestimate them at your own peril. If this one wasn't contained, he would level the village in a moment."

Minato's curiosity to see a jinchuuriki was utterly sated. In fact, he sort of wished he hadn't witnessed this, and his lack of awe left Rumiko a little disgruntled. When they parted ways, Minato headed straight back to the hotel instead of exploring the rest of the village. Sakumo was there, looking remarkably hale for a man who professed to be so violently sick.

"You know they have a jinchuuriki here," was the first thing Minato said to him, once he'd completed his debugging ritual. "Underground. Big vault. Lots of guards."

Sakumo, seated in a chair by the window, looked up from his book. "You saw him?"

"Clear as day! They're not too concerned about keeping it a secret either."

"Why would they be? Almost every village has or had a tailed beast in their possession."

"Konoha doesn't have a jinchuuriki," Minato pointed out.

Sakumo gave him a flat look. "Huh," he scoffed. "Most have escaped and gone wild again... there aren't many jinchuuriki left at this point. If the villages can't control them, they're more likely to be hunted and killed."

Minato sighed, flopping down on Sakumo's bed to test if it was softer than his. "Perhaps that's for the best."

"Excuse me?" Sakumo scowled at him impressively.

"Seems like you're better off dead than living as a monster. I know I'd rather die than be turned into a freak like that," he said.

Sakumo's book closed with a snap. Minato looked around in surprise to see the other man crossing straight to the door. "Where are you going?" he asked, bemused.

"Out," snapped Sakumo. "I may be some time."

"They'll have you followed," Minato warned him.

"Then I'll enjoy much better company than here," he said, and before roundly slamming the door behind him he honoured Minato with a glare he hadn't seen the likes of since the last man who had tried to kill him, and you had to be in the dog house if Hatake Sakumo preferred the company of Suna spies to yourself. That was worse than usual. Sakumo had always held mild contempt for him, but this time Minato felt the hot sting of outright hate.

Minato wandered back to his room, not sure what he'd said this time to offend him so much.

* * *

It was the dead of night when Minato awoke. As the first eerie wail of the siren rose over the village, he was already sitting up before he understood what had woken him. By the second tone he'd reached the window, hyper-alert, and scoured the moonlit rooftops for some sign of trouble. There were people moving out there, and a lot of them at that, but there was no way to tell from up there what was going on. An attack? A drill? A sandstorm?

Had the jinchuuriki escaped?

Minato turned and began to jam his clothes on, intending to go out into the corridor and question whoever was standing guard (and there was _always_ someone standing guard). The door may have been locked but that meant nothing to Minato. One quick lock breaking jutsu and he stepped out -

- just in time to see the guard crumple against the wall with a groan.

Sakumo calmly folded the white sabre for which he was named out of sight, stepping back to avoid the spreading pool of blood. He looked over at Minato who was gaping at him from the doorway of his room. "I think it's time we leave."

Big. Understatement.

"Did you just kill him?" Minato demanded.

"Put on your Suna clothes and pack as much water as you can," Sakumo ordered. "Leave everything else, it'll be dead weight in the desert."

Minato didn't move. "What have you done?"

"I don't have time to explain. Just do as I say or we die."

There was no reason to think he was exaggerating, not with the siren penetrating through the walls, so without another word Minato whirled and began to raid his drawers. He was no less furious with Sakumo, even as he obeyed. He pulled on the Suna robes and ran to fill his flask with water from the bathroom, and though he paused a moment to take what scrolls and weapons he needed, he left the rest of his belongings behind. As he ran to join Sakumo in the other room, he couldn't shake the sense that he'd forgotten something important, though he'd brought nothing of value to begin with.

In his room, Sakumo had finally consented to dragging on Suna clothing of his own, and only out of desperation. "You ready?" he asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulders.

When Minato nodded, they went straight to the window, opened it as far as they could, and dropped down into the rocky 'garden' below. Their descent didn't go unnoticed, and shouts rose up from the tops of the buildings nearby. Sakumo shoved him, urging him to move, and Minato ran full out, pounding the sandy streets as he dived between houses and zigzagged through the alleys. He didn't pause to make sure Sakumo was keeping up, concentrating only on shaking whatever possible tail they'd picked up.

The moment he saw an open second-storey window, he ran at the wall and scrambled through it, landing silently at the foot of a sleeping child's crib. Over the thundering of his own heart he heard people moving about in the house below, reacting to the siren. As long as the child didn't wake and start crying, this was a safe point to stop and strategise.

Sakumo dropped into the room a moment later, and together they hunched out of sight beneath the window ledge. Conscious of the sleeping infant just feet away, his parents downstairs, and the gangs of ninja searching the streets for them outside, Minato tempered his tone. "Now will you tell me _what_ is going on?"

Sakumo brushed off the question with one of his own. "This jutsu of yours, Hiraishin," he said, "what kind of range does it have? Can you transport yourself out of here?"

"I can only transport between tags," Minato answered. "I laid one on a rock before we entered the desert – just in case we got lost and ran out of water. I could probably make contact with it… but it's at my limit."

"Can you transport two people?" Sakumo demanded, glancing at the infant who had made a noise in his sleep.

"I've never tried it. If you're asking me to transport us out of here, we should be so lucky. Crossing a whole desert by myself is one thing. Together, we'd have to be a _lot_ closer to the tag, and even then I'm not sure it would work."

"How much closer?"

"Like… a day closer?"

Sakumo sighed irritably. "You couldn't have placed one nearer the village?"

"I'm sorry I didn't anticipate that we would be fleeing for our lives," Minato shot back. "And this is all just academic – I'm not transporting anyone or anything until you tell me what's going on!"

Sakumo held a finger to his lips, warning him to remain quiet. "The Kazekage has gone," he whispered.

"Gone where?" Minato asked blinking.

"They don't know. He's just _gone_. They can't find him, so naturally they suspect foul play."

"But that has nothing to do with us. Why are we running if we didn't do anything?" Minato asked – when a terrible thought occurred to him. "We _didn't_ do anything, right? Sakumo-sensei?"

The older jonin rolled his eyes. "I wish I could claim credit for disappearing that old tyrant, but no. This has nothing to do with me. If I planned to kill anyone around here first it would be Masa."

Minato frowned. "So we're running because that's what innocent people do?"

"It doesn't matter if we're innocent or not," Sakumo interrupted. "They're looking for someone to blame, and the first place they'll look is to us. If you don't want to be killed or trapped here for the next couple of years as a political prisoner, we need to get out now. Hopefully they'll sort this out amongst themselves, but this is not the place to be for a couple of outsiders right now."

Heaving a sigh, Sakumo lifted himself up onto one knee to peer over the windowsill, scanning the skyline. "We're going to need all the luck we can get just to escape. There's no point heading for the gates; we'll have to scale the cliffs and hope for the best."

"Luck…?" Minato echoed, eyes wide.

"Yes, _luck_," Sakumo agreed impatiently. "Although I won't stop you if you want to transport out of here alone. It's just as easy for me to escape the village by myself as with backup. There's no point endangering you as well, or heaven knows if Kushina would ever forgive me if something happened to you."

Minato, however, wasn't listening. He rose to his feet and began to climb back through the window before Sakumo's hand on his elbow stopped him. "What are you doing?" the older jonin demanded.

"I have to go back to the hotel," Minato said. "I forgot something."

"Whatever it is, it's as good as gone. Forget about it-"

"You don't understand. I can't leave unless I get it." Minato reached out to pat Sakumo's shoulder, impressing a Hiraishin tag onto his sleeve. "Don't wait for me. I'll join you as soon as I have it."

Oblivious to Sakumo's protestations, Minato dropped to the street again and began retracing his steps with care. Every shadow could have concealed a Suna shinobi, and a whole team of them could be waiting around every corner. When he heard footsteps he dove for the nearest doorway and masked his presence with a genjutsu, and there remained perfectly still until the nin had run past his position without any one of them glancing in his direction.

The hotel was too exposed to risk entering through the window they way they had escaped it, and Minato sought the staff entrance. The lock on the door was already broken. He suspected this may have been the same route Sakumo had used, and indeed, as he made his way through the corridors to the elevator he found he was following a path of destruction. Unconscious cleaners, a trail of blood from someone who had managed to escape with his life… and more than one dead body.

It was eerily quiet as Minato rode up the elevator to his floor. No one would think either of the two 'escapees' was stupid enough to return here at this point, and there was no one to see Minato as he stepped over the guard felled by Sakumo and into his room.

Mere minutes had passed since he's dived from the window, but someone had already ransacked the room – looking for him or looking for clues. He hurried to the nightstand to open its drawer, worried that his item might have been seized as evidence of some kind.

But no. The only one who saw the value of this badly beaten up necklace was himself. Minato stuffed it into his pocket with a sigh of relief.

That was when the door slammed shut behind him.

"A little foolish of you to return, Minato-kun," said Rumiko. As she stepped towards him he saw that the encompassing robes had been pushed back over her shoulders to reveal the uniform of Suna's ninja. She was no mere tour-guide.

"I didn't come here to cause trouble. I was just collecting some of my things… and now that I have them, I'll be on my way if it's all the same to you," he said.

Rumiko's husband, Rui, strode in through the connecting door to Sakumo's room. "You're not going anywhere until you tell us where your friend is."

"He's really not my friend," Minato protested.

"Then you won't mind helping us out?" Rumiko smiled at him as she had when she'd showed him the jinchuuriki's suffering. "Hatake Sakumo is a sworn enemy of Suna and we were fools to trust Konoha's motives in sending him here. Tell us what he has done with the Kazekage and our son and we'll let you go. We have no quarrel with you."

"Your son is missing too?" Taking the Kazekage was one thing, but who would take the child of two unknown nin like them?

"Konoha may not think twice before killing children, but to us our children are precious. Surely you understand? Our son is an innocent, we

I'm afraid I don't know where he is," lied Minato, as if he didn't have a tag on his compatriot that let him know with uncanny accuracy _exactly_ where he was right at that very moment.

"Then," said Rui, "we'll just have to take you instead."

"No," Minato said stolidly.

"Don't be difficult," Rumiko chided him like a mother. "You're outnumbered and for all your titles you're still just a boy. It would be unfortunate if we had to relay our deepest regrets to Konoha that their little yellow star had expired due to some unfortunate accident when he resisted arrest."

The look he gave her was reproachful. "I thought we were friends," he said sadly.

And she shook her head at him as if he really was a child who knew nothing. "Konoha and Suna will never be friends."

Minato leapt for the window at exactly the same moment Rui lifted his hands. Hair thin wires of chakra snapped taut across the room, as sharp as razor blades, and Minato had to change course midair to avoid being sliced to ribbons. Behind him, the bed lurched. More threads had seized it and as Rui swept his arms to the side, it lifted clear of the floor and slammed against the window, blocking any escape.

Someone like him could turn every object in the room into a weapon or an obstacle – even Minato himself if those threads latched onto him. He remained on the floor, quite still. There was every chance that if he moved, his head would be sliced off.

"Come quietly, Minato-kun," warned Rumiko, stalking towards him as she unsheathed a ninjato from under her robe. "No one needs to be hurt."

"I agree," said Minato.

"Just tell us where Hatake Sakumo is… tell us what he did with our Sasori and the Kazekage, and we can all work together on this."

Minato carefully weighed his options and his odds. However he looked at it, this wasn't going to end well. "You want to know where Sakumo is?" he said with a sigh. "Look behind you."

Rumiko and Rui spun, raising their weapons to defend themselves… against nothing. The half second it took them to realise their deception was all the time Minato needed. Hiraishin was activated and the next thing he knew, he was colliding with another solid body on some distant rooftop.

Sakumo hissed a curse and swung his sabre out reflexively. Minato ducked and just about managed to avoid being bisected by his own ally.

He chose to believe it was accidental. Sakumo couldn't have hated him that much…

"A little warning would be nice," Sakumo grunted.

"Not for a faster-than-light transportation jutsu," Minato remarked.

Sakumo had almost reached the cliff face when Minato had joined him. The high rock walls that formed a protective shell around the village was the most uneven here, providing the greatest shadows and nooks to pass unseen. It also looked like the most difficult section to climb.

Summoning chakra to their feet and hands, they took to the smooth wall of solidified sand and began to climb.

They had barely made it halfway when they were spotted. Minato glanced over his shoulder to see bright pink flares sailing into the air, billowing light and smoke. Every shadow that had protected them was banished. Their pursuers had caught up to them and the assault was instantaneous.

A deafening string of crashes rocked the cliff wall, threatening to dislodge them. Above them, rocks began to cascade, dislodged by explosions thrown from below.

"Get behind me!" Sakumo shouted, and Minato swung below him as the other jonin swiped his sabre and released an arc of lightning to cut through the worst of the falling debris. The rocks still pelted them, splitting skin and bruising bones, but they clung to the cliff for dear life.

Minato was the one who saw the hale of senbon cutting through the smoke of the flares, heading right for them. A deflective wind jutsu knocked them away harmlessly, though no sooner had they fallen than another wave bore down on them.

"Keep climbing!" he yelled to Sakumo, "I'll keep them off us!"

It was tricky, letting go off the cliff with his hands and channelling more chakra to his feet until he was standing horizontally, all the while summoning his elemental chakra between raised fists until the air circled between them. The wind moved faster, and faster, becoming a vortex that whipped Minato's hair and clothes and scattered the flares into darkness. The senbon rained down on him but were lost in this whirlpool of air to be flung violently away.

Beneath his wall of air, Minato began to move, climbing upwards once more. He caught up to Sakumo at the brow of the cliff, and the moment they were over the lip and onto solid ground again, Minato released his jutsu with a whoosh.

He could have done with a rest, but Sakumo tugged his sleeve insistently. "Keep going," he said. "You're doing well."

It had to be the nicest thing Sakumo had ever said to him, and it rejuvenated him for at least ten more miles. They set off over the rocky ridges of Suna's best topographical defences, heading directly east for the border of the fire country. They only had to get closer to Minato's tag at the edge of the desert. He could already feel it – a distant, indistinct tingle on the edge of his awareness. He could activate it immediately if he chose, but that would mean leaving Sakumo behind to a very angry village that had been dying for his blood since the moment he'd arrived.

More deafening bangs threatened to overturn the balance of the world. The solid rock beneath their feet tipped and began to break up, as ninja in the wind-forged passages below ruthlessly tried to collapse their escape route.

Minato and Sakumo quickly leapt clear of the cave-in and forged on through the explosions that followed. It seemed like their attackers were closing in. They may have been two of Konoha's most elite jonin but they were still only two against a whole village, Minato thought desperately. They needed a better plan than simply running away.

"We need to find a place to lie low," shouted Sakumo, over the crash of detonations. They were running through a constant shower of shrapnel and dust. "Follow me and get ready to mask your chakra!"

Minato kept close on his heels, and when the dead tree next to them exploded in a brutal spray of wood chips, Sakumo suddenly changed direction and dropped down a gap in the cliffs. Minato followed. It was like falling into pitch darkness, and at the point when he expected to meet the ground he just kept falling.

A loud splash in an icy stream ended his descent, and Minato might have inhaled a fair bit of the water in his surprise. Sakumo hauled him upright and flattened him against a wall that was almost as cold and wet as the floor, smothering his coughs with his hand. Had they just found Suna's famed aqueducts? A warning might have been nice, he thought, and would have happily told Sakumo so if he hadn't been effectively gagged.

Far above them the explosions continued, but they seemed to be getting further away. Whatever bomb happy pursuer had been after them had not noticed their sudden stop. After a moment, Sakumo eased back and rummaged in his backpack for a torch. He immediately shone it straight in Minato's face, of course.

"Now are you going to tell me what was so damn important that you had to risk going back for it?" he demanded, hiding behind the intense light like a true interrogator. "Did you leave your precious stuffed anteater?"

Minato ground his teeth together, incensed at Kushina's apparent betrayal. If she was going to tell her teacher about all his embarrassing secrets, she could at least relay them accurately. "He's a precious stuffed elephant, actually," retorted Minato, "and I don't bring him on missions with me."

"Small mercies," deadpanned Sakumo.

Knocking the torch aside, Minato pushed away from the wall of the tunnel. "What's our next move," he said, changing the subject. "How far do these aqueducts extend beyond the village boundaries?"

"Miles," said Sakumo. "They have their traps and security measures, but they'll be easier to navigate than being chased down by half the village above ground. We need to stay here for a while, though. Let them chase their own shadows for a while before we press on and risk alerting them to our position again."

That seemed reasonable, so Minato found the driest lump of rock available and sat down. Trapped in a close, cold tunnel with Kushina's unforgiving teacher wasn't going to be fun, but it was rather more fun than being blown up, so somehow Minato would find the will to cope. He kept his eyes on the beam of the torchlight as it scanned the rippling surface of the water, the bare walls of their surroundings, and peered up and down the length of the water passage. It kept returning to flash over Minato like a prison watcher's searchlight sought out a prisoner - he felt Sakumo viewed him in roughly equal terms.

"An heirloom from your mother," Sakumo suddenly said.

"What?" Minato squinted at him.

The other jonin turned the torch towards to ceiling, where the light reflected off the shiny rocks and trickled down around them with more ambience. They could both dimly see each other now. "You wouldn't have left any top secret scrolls or weapons lying about since we weren't allowed to bring any. You seem to have no sentimental attachment to any of your common weapons that would make you go back for one in particular. You're not particularly literate so I don't see you going to rescue a book, you're not much into fashion so it's unlikely you left behind any clothes you couldn't bear to part with, and from what I've seen, you always keep your money on you, so that wouldn't explain it either. Whatever it was you fetched, it was no doubt useless except in sentimental value. Since you didn't care for your father, it must be from your mother."

A shudder and a low boom rocked their passage. Apparently Suna hoped to scare them out like frightened mice if they made enough noise. Minato waited until the rumbling thunder of the distant explosion faded away before answering. "If it was, I don't see how it would be any of your business."

"Just curious," shrugged Sakumo, "but why bring something so valuable anyway?"

"I bring it on all my missions; it gives me luck," Minato said squarely. "And if luck fails me, I'd rather die with it than without it."

Sakumo stroked his chin. "Interesting. Can I see it?"

Childishly, Minato thought about refusing him. He didn't like being poked and prodded in such a sensitive place, but Sakumo might just bother him more if he became uncooperative. He reached into his pocket and tossed the necklace over to the other jonin who caught it deftly and held it in the light of the torch.

The broken thong was badly frayed, but though the disk dangling off it was chipped and dirty, it glittered like a smooth seashell.

Sakumo stared at it, perplexed. "I've seen this before," he said, "but this isn't your mother's."

"I don't have anything left of my mother's," Minato explained. "That's from Kushina. She gave it to me."

"When?"

"Years ago… before we left for the war. It's a symbol of the Whirlpool village."

"I can see that." Sakumo passed it back, now looking at Minato with an expression he hadn't seen before. "That must have been five or six years ago. You really take it on every single mission?"

"Why not?" Minato responded defensively. Most ninja had their little curios of luck and fortune – people tended to be quite superstitious in their line of work – though he realized his was a little lame. "I was wearing it when I defeated Akuze, and I'm not dead yet. I must be pretty lucky."

"Or perhaps you can thank some of your own ability too," said Sakumo, which was surprisingly generous coming from a man who had previously dismissed his triumph over Akuze as a matter of mere luck. Minato was so surprised he didn't know how to respond for a while.

"Does Kushina know you still have it?" Sakumo asked.

Minato lifted a half-hearted shoulder. "Maybe." She acted innocent, but he knew she went through his things too from time to time and she may have seen it hidden away in his desk drawer.

"You should tell her," Sakumo said. "She would probably like knowing you value it so much."

Minato shook his head with certainty. "Nah. She'd call me a sappy idiot."

"Yes, but she'd be happy."

Sakumo knew his student well enough to know she was good as disguising her pleasure with displeasure. "Maybe," he repeated, tucking Kushina's necklace away with a smile. He honestly preferred to keep it as a memento from the dirty, awkward girl who had said goodbye to him at the village gates while making him the fierce promise that they would always stay best friends. If he brought it up with the new Kushina she might just devastate him by mentioning she had given one to Ren too.

"You really have nothing of your mother's?" Sakumo continued.

"My father destroyed most of her things when she died," he replied, something he had never felt strongly about. "I think he was trying to destroy memories of her."

Sakumo shook his head. "They weren't his memories to destroy," he sighed.

"It doesn't really matter."

"Would you say that if I destroyed everything of my wife's so Kakashi would never know his mother?"

"You wouldn't, though, because unlike my father you actually like your son and you wouldn't dream of doing it…" The back of Minato's head hit the cold, hard wall with a weary thump. "There's no point getting angry or hurt about it. What is done is done. My mother betrayed her husband, and what he destroyed can't be brought back, so why care?"

"Because you don't care about enough, particularly when it comes to other people. You care about that necklace, which means you care about Kushina, and that gives me hope. But you should care about the injustices against you or why on earth would you care about the injustices against anyone else? And how could you become Hokage?"

Minato scowled at him through the aqueduct's gloom. "Right. I should give more to charity if I want to be Hokage," he said, with a bite of sarcasm in his tone.

"You'll be Hokage one day," said Sakumo nonchalantly. "For better or worse."

"Huh," grunted Minato, unconvinced. While there were people like Orochimaru in the village, and Ren, and Sakumo, and Jiraiya, Minato didn't think he stood out as particularly favoured. In a fair fight any one of them might kick his ass, and the Hokage had to be the _strongest._

"And if you're looking for memories of your mother, maybe the best place to look is to you father," Sakumo went on. "Your real one."

"That's nice," Minato said, patience wearing thin, "but I don't know-"

"-who he is, yes, but Namikaze Midoriko's secrets aren't mine to divulge, and all I have are rumours anyway, so what I think may be wrong. All I know is that you should go to the academy and look for classroom 2B. You might find the answer there, or you might not. It's your journey to make either way."

"'My journey'? You sound like a fortune cookie." Minato could almost laugh. "You're pulling my leg about the academy, right?"

"You won't know until you go."

"You _are _messing with me." Minato refused to believe otherwise.

Sakumo flicked the torch up until his face was lit from beneath. "We'll see, won't we?"

Minato never got the chance to respond. At that very moment something struck him so hard that he was sent sprawling into the freezing water all over again.

He heard someone shout, "They're here!", and a rough arm grabbed his. Had they activated a summoning trap? Had followed them down the crevice? The importance of such questions swirled away, and Minato knew only that they'd been caught and now it was a right for their very lives.

The hand that pulled him up broke with a snap as Minato rammed him against the wall. Bodies jostled against his and torchlights swung confusingly, lighting everything and revealing nothing. A knife sliced past him, barely missing his chest - Minato helped guide it into the belly of an attacker, as smooth as butter.

For every blow he landed he planted a tag. Like smoke he slipped between their greedy, grasping fingers and took them out before they even realised he had vanished. Someone got lucky and grabbed his neck. That one was quickly thrown into the water, and the rasengan that followed him lit the passage like a tiny blue sun before being swallowed by a blast of water that sent flying the rest of the Suna dogs snapping at his heels.

In that tiny reprieve he sought out Sakumo, worried Kushina's teacher had been taken by surprise as well. The man in question would have been contemptuous of such a concern; he was slashing through enemies with even more disregard than Minato, using the body of one man as a shield of flesh against one opponent while he fenced with another, his charged white sabre flashing in the dark as if it were apart from its wielder.

When the cool, slim edge of a blade kissed Minato's throat, he froze. Inching his head around, he saw Rumiko standing beside him. "I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to," she hissed close to his ear. "So let me say this just one last time: _where is my son?_"

Minato said nothing. He couldn't help her, and anything he said in his own defence would be seen as a lie. He waited, watching the desperation unravel across her face as she realised he would never help her. Whether he was guilty or innocent now didn't matter - she would kill him out of pure pain and anger.

The very second the muscles in her arms tensed, about to force her sword through his yielding neck, Minato vanished. But Rumiko was cleverer than his other opponents. She had watched him fight from afar and witnessed how he appeared to jump from place to place, defying all laws if time and space. At once she spun and slashed at the body Minato had left his last tag upon -

Pain sliced across his shoulder. He bit down on the cry of pain and wheeled back as warm blood spread through the cold, sodden fabric of his shirt and robe, thinking only to gain distance.

Rumiko raised her arms once more, ready to strike him down.

The choking cry of a man to her right made her stop. Minato couldn't think why, in a passage filled with agonised moans and screams of death, this one would bother her, until her face drained of its angry colour. _"Rui!"_ she screamed, loud enough to bring silence crashing down on their heads.

Rui, clutching his opened throat fell to his knees at Sakumo's feet. All the corpses he had utilized as puppets fell with him, their strings literally and figuratively cut.

_"Rui, no!"_ Rumiko abandoned Minato, hurtling towards Sakumo's back with her sword raised.

And Sakumo made it look too easy. At the last moment when it looked like Rumiko would have him, he turned and caught her. The sabre slid between her ribs, ending her cries. All Minato saw was the shining tip protruding from her back, before she too collapsed into the steam, reaching towards her lover and husband as she shuddered and died.

There were still opponents left, but even they were left momentarily stunned by such short, violent deaths. In a moment they would continue the fight their comrades had started, and after them even more would come.

Knowing time was short, Minato turned upstream, east, and lifted a tagged kunai from its holster. He threw it into the darkness, as far and hard as he could, and before it had so much as landed, Minato turned and ran at Sakumo. The older jonin had begun to reset his stance, anticipating another wave of attacks from the men and women just feet away. He did not quite expect to be tackled from behind by Minato. Nor did he expect Minato to activate Hiraishin at that very moment and yank them - _both_ of them - six hundred yards in less than an eye blink.

The impact hit Minato almost as hard as Sakumo. They landed in water and pitch darkness, disorientated and winded.

"What was that?" gasped Sakumo.

"Hiraishin," Minato panted, "I wanted to see if it worked with two people."

"This isn't really the time to be experimenting with jutsu, but I appreciate it," Sakumo said, getting to his feet.

Downstream, their pursuers with their lights realized what they had done and began to give chase. There was no time to enjoy this new revelation, and Minato quickly scooped up the tagged kunai. He looped his arm through Sakumo's, ignoring the searing sting of his injury, and urged him into a run. "Just keep up with me," he called.

As they ran at full speed, Minato threw his tag ahead of them. Before it descended he activated the jutsu, whipping them forward another few hundred yards to catch the blade before it landed. Then he threw it again, relying on the precise straight lines of the aqueduct to keep the momentum going.

Sakumo stumbled at first, making noises about travel sickness and being far too old for such energetic things, but he quickly got the hang of it.

In moments the sounds of their pursuers faded into the distance, falling so far behind them that even their lights disappeared. When the kunai hit a solid wall with a thunk, they knew they had reached the end of the aqueduct and escaped upwards through a vent to the surface.

The moon and the stars greeted them from above like dear old friends, and desert surrounded them on all sides. Far to the west they could see the shape of Suna's cliffs jutting against the sky. Minato was rather grateful to see it looking so distant and small, and together with Sakumo he allowed himself a moment to slump and attempt to catch his breath.

Sakumo just looked at him, astonished. "I had no idea," he panted, "that you could do something like that."

Minato shook his head. "Neither did I. That was the first time I've ever done that."

Sakumo stared him like one of them might have been mad, though he wasn't sure which. "You're a monster," he said at last.

"Oh," said Minato uncertainly. "Thanks."

Shaking his head, Sakumo shot the sky a baffled look. "I'll let you train Kakashi," he said earnestly, "as long as you promise never to put me through anything like that again."

...

They arrived back in Konoha three days later on far better terms than they had left. Dirty, tired and dusty, Minato hoped to go home and crawl into a bath, but the guards at the gate - of which there appeared to be an unusually large number - told the pair that a category two state of emergency had been declared and they were to report immediately to the Hokage.

Somehow the news of Suna must have outpaced them. It was only natural that the disappearance of the Kazekage would result in extremely heightened tensions between villages, and they were no doubt being summoned to the Hokage to explain how a mission of peace had gone so badly wrong.

In his office, the Hokage was waiting with his nephew, Ren. There were no smiles or friendly greetings when they entered, and Minato was certain Ren's jaw even tightened when they laid eyes on each other.

Then the Hokage, after taking in their bedraggled appearance and blood-splattered clothes, spoke some truly baffling words.

"You're back early. Did something happen?"

Sakumo coughed, perhaps thinking this was a joke. "Nothing untoward, Hokage-sama."

"Only," Minato added conscientiously, "the Kazekage has gone missing, we have been blamed, and we had to kill a large number of Suna's people just to escape."

"It went as well as could be expected," Sakumo explained with all seriousness.

The Hokage was speechless. He looked between them, waiting for the punch line, until he eventually realized it wasn't forthcoming. His weary face fell into his hands. "This is the last thing I need. Of all times… why now?"

"This will almost certainly mean war," Ren mumbled, looking pained.

"Isn't that why a state of emergency has been called?" Minato pointed out.

"That?" The Hokage scowled impatiently. "That has nothing to do with it. The threat of Suna is entirely news to me... and while I can't say I'm pleased by it, I'm sure you did everything you could."

"Then what other reason is there for a category two emergency?" Sakumo asked curiously.

It seemed like a sensible question. Category two emergencies weren't declared for anything short of a possible invasion or a natural disaster, and if the Hokage had been oblivious to the unfolding events in Suna until this very moment, what could be so dire enough to threaten the village.

Forcing a sigh, the Hokage tented his fingers and looked unhappily between his guests. "I declared the emergency yesterday," he explained heavily, "because Uzumaki Kushina has escaped the village and as of right now her location is unknown to us. As unstable and dangerous as she is, we are all in significant danger the village hasn't faced for over fifty years."

His declaration was met with stunned silence. A flash of devastation and dismay may have briefly contorted Sakumo's face before he mastered his emotions again, accepting the weight of the news with a bowed head.

Minato just blinked. "Wait. What?"

* * *

TBC


	18. Our Stars

A/N: I realise the canon of the last chapter deviates from the manga slightly, and though I thought about putting a note up about it I didn't think it mattered too greatly. If it angers or confuses you, or you're just wondering what gives: in fumbling to balance the story between exact accuracy and keeping it fluid and interesting, I'm going to sacrifice some details that would slow the story down, or fudge some of the time-line to cover something that would otherwise take several chapters to portray faithfully. So although I'm trying to keep the essence the same, I plan to make some things play out differently - most notably the ending.

* * *

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Eighteen: Our Stars

* * *

"Uzumaki Kushina? Yeah, I've not seen her in a while. Is it true she bailed without authorisation after all this stuff with Suna and the Kazekage kicked off? You know when people do that, it usually means they're up to no good."

"Chouza. It's Uzumaki. She's a pacifist."

"All the more suspicious."

"He's right, you know. It's suspicious. What if she's only a pacifist when it comes to fighting for _our_ side? I mean she was always pretty adamant that this wasn't her village, and considering she's quick to rough up anyone around here who offends her – or is caught in an innocent misunderstanding – she was awfully timid about fighting the Waterfall forces because she said some of them were 'her people'. If anyone was going to turn traitor it was her."

"_Inoichi._"

"_What_, Shikaku?"

Shikaku looked pointedly at Minato who stood staring at them like a pale thundercloud. The Ino-Shika-Chou trio could practically see the electricity jumping through the air around him like a crackling aura. Suddenly Inoichi didn't seem quite so convinced of Kushina's disloyalty. "Or… you know… she's shy… easy to mistake for treachery."

When Minato spoke it was with the cold, flat tone that preceded a killing spree. "Thank you you've been extremely helpful." And he left them at the entrance of the training grounds and continued on his way to the Hokage tower.

They'd told him to go home and get a wholesome night's rest, but that was a little much to ask after the bombshell that had been dropped on his head. And how was he supposed to sleep soundly in a house whose emptiness howled, never allowing him to forget that there was someone important was missing? How was he supposed in a bed that, like everything else in the house, had been overturned in his absence by zealous ANBU agents who probably had no idea what they were looking for or if there was anything to find.

Minato hadn't been able to stay long. He couldn't bear to see all the things Kushina had worked so hard for, and cared for with such meticulous pride, scattered on the floor, bent, broken, and smashed by hands who didn't know or care about their worth. The only one who had escaped molestation was the single remaining guinea pig in the pen outside. Oblivious to the calamity that had befallen his caretaker, the little rodent was busily grazing when Minato went out to check on him. Kushina had evidently made no arrangements for someone to care for him. She'd told no one she was leaving. In fact, she appeared to have left most of her things.

Perhaps that was why Ren was convinced she'd been kidnapped. "Kushina has very special chakra," he had said in the Hokage's office when Minato and Sakumo returned from Suna. "The village has done its best to protect that fact, but it's possible one of our enemies has learned how valuable she is and taken her."

The Hokage was willing to entertain that possibility, which was why he had permitted Ren to mount a rescue mission with eyes on Kumo; usually when people of extraordinary abilities were abducted, Kumo nin were behind it, and they apparently specialised in taking people with Kushina's chakra.

"But what's so special about Kushina's chakra?" Minato had asked. He'd never noticed anything strange about her abilities. He knew her nature was 'wind', like his, and that even as a young genin she'd shown she could inject a tremendous amount of energy into her techniques, which he had always put down to a lack of control. It was slightly unusual, but not so strange that he would expect any village would covet her.

And the Hokage had looked at him with deep regret. "You're not cleared to know much more than that we must pull together and find this girl, as much for our safety as for hers."

Minato had wondered if he was dreaming – if he had collapsed in the desert beneath the baking sun had was hallucinating that he'd returned to Konoha and the Hokage telling him Kushina was a Village Secret. But it had been too lucid and stark to be conjured by his severely limited imagination, so then he'd suspected it was a practical joke the Hokage had decided to play to lighten the terrible news that they may soon be back at war with Suna. And yet Ren looked even more cheerless than usual in Minato's presence, and Sakumo – who couldn't possibly be in on the joke, looked like he had received the news that an aged companion had died, as tragic as it was expected.

It was no joke, and so Minato had refused to take the Hokage's delicate snub with a bow and a 'thank you' as he was expected. Kushina was his friend, and if she was mixed up in something terrible he felt he had the right to know. He said as much to the Hokage, more forcefully than was probably permitted in the Hokage's presence, and he ignored Sakumo's warning cough and the severe expression on Ren's face that told him he was edging onto thinner ice.

But the Hokage was not offended by his insubordination. "You are a relatively new jonin," the Hokage said, all too compassionately. "There are things about this village and the secrets it contains that may not be made known to you for years. I will tell you all you need to know; that we must find your friend and return her to the village as discreetly as possible. While she remains at large there can only be danger."

"Then you're not talking about Kushina," Minato said bluntly, clenching his fists at his sides. He was willing to admit that she was a menace when armed with an umbrella, but this was pure slander. Nothing she had _ever_ done had given him or anyone else reason to be cautious of her. "You have no right to call her unstable and dangerous. You don't even know her!"

"My uncle knows her far better than you do, Minato-kun," interjected Ren. "As do I."

Minato had never wanted to hit anyone else as hard as he wanted to hit Ren at that moment.

The Hokage had brushed his bristling nephew's defensiveness aside. "You're right, of course," he said to Minato. "Kushina herself is a young woman of immense fortitude and kindness, and there are many in this village who would do better to look to her as an example. She's governed by strong morals which she refused to relinquish during the ugliest moments of war, at great risk to herself and without regard for what others thought or said of her and I have no hesitation in saying that my nephew is the better for having known her. She has come a long way since she arrived as a refugee. I would trust her as I would trust a daughter, as I trust Ren's judgement as I would trust one of my sons'."

Minato did not at all care for such casual suggestions that Kushina might as well have been part of their family, mostly out of dread that it was true. "Then why slander her?" he demanded.

"Because Kushina holds the key to something else that is far bigger and more terrible than you and I can fathom. It is not her fault, and I don't think her capable of malice, but she could hurt a lot of people with the burden she carries without ever intending to. Not only that, but above all _she_ is in danger of hurting herself. While she was part of this village she was protected. I fear she does not know what she does by leaving."

"Unless she was taken against her will, then we are all in even greater danger," Ren added.

Minato ignored him. "This isn't possible. Are you telling me that Kushina is carrying information? A Village Secret?"

"I cannot say any more than that," said the Hokage sadly, lifting the stately hat from his head to place it on the desk before him. Like this, he seemed more like a man than the formidable leader whose face was carved into a mountain, a legacy that would span countless generations or more. "You already know too much, Minato."

Minato looked between Sakumo's solemn acceptance of everything the Hokage had said and Ren's expression that warred between genuine grief and a smudge of smug haughtiness that here at last was something Minato could _not_ share with his girlfriend, as they shared everything else. "Why me?" he asked petulantly. "Everyone else seems to know around here."

"Sakumo knows because as her teacher it was necessary. Ren was only made aware of it recently by accident, against my wishes. I do not try to keep the truth from you because I feel you can't be trusted with it, I do it for Kushina's sake. I only tell you this much because it's imperative we find her and that you understand the gravity of the situation. Anymore than that… I think you would find it to your detriment." Here, the Hokage looked at Ren, who had begun to look more and more uncomfortable as his uncle spoke.

"My detriment?" Minato could not believe what he was hearing. "There is nothing you could tell me about Kushina that would ever hurt me or my opinion of her. There isn't a truth in this world that would change my feelings!"

The Hokage smiled a little, although his nephew could not raise his eyes from the floor. For a moment Minato thought he had won, until Sakumo put a hand on his shoulder. "Let Kushina have her secrets," he said. "It's not for you to demand them."

And so Minato had stepped back, once more reminded of his place. Since then a hollow ringing in his ears had accompanied him wherever he went, like some fundamental truth about the universe had been shaken loose and everything he thought he knew had turned out to be wrong. What could he trust now?

Ren was going on a mission to Kumo, under the belief that Kushina would never have left the village by herself, despite knowing of her earlier threats. The Hokage wanted Minato to join one of the tracker-nin teams that were being sent out, but as of yet, he resisted. Tracker-nin hunted renegades. When they found them, they brought them back in chains and bonds if they didn't outright kill them, and Minato could not stomach the idea of hunting someone he loved.

He wandered the village in a state of semi-shock. Security was on high alert and no one he met really understood why. Most assumed it was due to the political upheaval in Suna, and if they knew or cared about Kushina's disappearance they thought it was only coincidental. In truth, Minato felt just as uncertain and confused as they did. He kept on asking whoever he met about Kushina, hoping for some clue or sign that there really was something about her that he had missed so completely.

In the markets he examined the flower stall that Kushina had visited so diligently as if it would reveal her mysteries to him. The flower-girl that Inoichi was keen on recognised him and pointed out Kushina's favourite flowers, thinking he had come to collect them for her. He went away with a handful of multicoloured lupins that left him none the wiser. He already knew she liked lupins.

Mikoto came across him by the fountain in the very centre of the market plaza. She approached with a basket of fish and vegetables, clearly attending to her wifely duties, and looked at the bunch of flowers drooping in his hands. "You look like you've been stood up," she observed without a smile. She knew that Kushina was gone, for she was the one who had reported it.

"She left the village," Minato said morosely, running his fingers from the small, closed buds at the tip of the stems to the fat bell-shaped flower-heads beneath them. "She left her house. She left her guinea pig. She left all the fresh flowers she bought and all the things she earned from working her way up from nothing. She left her teacher and Kakashi and Ren. She left you."

"And you," Mikoto reminded him.

Minato was painfully aware of that already. "I thought she was just in a funny mood… I didn't really think she'd do it…"

Beside him, Mikoto sank onto the stone lip of the fountain. "Kushina can be awfully strong-minded. Once she sets her mind to something she'll accomplish it. If she wanted to leave the village, she would do it sooner rather than later. You couldn't have stopped her so don't blame yourself, Minato."

"If I'd been here," Minato sighed, "maybe I could have said something... but she _promised_ she would wait until I returned. I thought I could have gone with her if she really had her mind set about going there."

Mikoto turned to look at him sharply. "You know where she's gone?"

He nodded and pressed the lupins to his nose, even though there was no scent. It would have been better if she was into lilies or roses, so that he could have been reminded of her every time he inhaled their fragrant aroma. "I thought she only had a short visit in mind."

Mikoto's hand suddenly seized his arm. The basket of vegetables was in danger of slipping off her knee. "Minato," she said urgently as he blinked at her in surprise. "If you know where Kushina's gone, you have to tell them! Everyone's looking for her. They're worried sick!"

"Yes," he agreed, unmoved by her fierce grip. "But from what they've said I'm wondering if Kushina had a very good reason to leave. I wonder if she was actually escaping."

"Escaping from what?"

He shrugged, struggling to understand a situation that people refused to explain to him. All he knew was that he trusted Kushina and her judgement. If she had left and had gone to lengths to do so in secrecy, he had to believe she knew what she was doing, regardless of the flattering condescension the Hokage showered on her, talking about her as if she was nothing more than a naïve child.

"Minato, Kushina could be in real trouble," Mikoto insisted. "Where did she go?"

He could have told her about all their arguments, and how Kushina had insisted that she needed to return to a village that simply wasn't there anymore, and how all her connections here were just shackles holding her back. Well, it seemed she'd finally cast them all aside like all the people who loved her truly were nothing more than dead weights. Yes, she could be in trouble out there on her own, but it seemed like she would be in enough trouble if the village caught up to her, and he knew that if he told Mikoto she would inform the Hokage, believing she had Kushina's best interests at heart.

When he said nothing, Mikoto rose to her feet and glared down at him. "Have it your way," she said coldly. "But if something happens to her, it'll be your fault. Don't let love blind you into thinking she can't make mistakes when she's hurting."

At the word 'love', Minato felt a hot prickle break out over his skin. He wasn't ashamed, but to hear his feelings spoken about so bluntly when he had never spoken them aloud was a shock. Many people had joked that he and Kushina were a couple, but none of them truly believed it, and Mikoto's eye was far sharper than theirs – her opinions more valuable. Of course she would have noticed his doting on Kushina went beyond merely platonic feelings, and her sly, secretive smiles when he was talking about their mutual friend had always been a little too knowing. He hoped on the graves of all his unknown ancestors that she had not shared her suspicions with Kushina herself.

Right now Mikoto offered him no knowing smiles. His unrequited love didn't amuse her, not when she thought it was clouding his judgement.

"If you don't want to tell anyone where she's gone, you'll have to go get her yourself," she said shortly. Her normally docile nature had given way to something much forceful in her anger. "Don't you dare mope around here like she abandoned you personally! Kushina didn't leave _you,_ she left her whole life! She is _not_ thinking clearly!"

"You don't understand," was his muted response. He was willing to concede, at least to himself, that he was taking her departure a little personally, but there was more going on here than a few injured feelings. Mikoto looked like she was just as much in the dark as he was about whatever 'burden' it was Kushina was carrying that made her such a danger that the village had declared a state of emergency.

"What is there to understand?" she asked. "Kushina has gone. You know where she is. If you insist on keeping that knowledge to yourself, then you will be the one who has to bring her back. What else needs to be said?"

She did make it sound quite simple. After that Mikoto left him to mull over his words, saying it was almost dinner time and she had a slave-driver of a mother-in-law who expected her back on time to feed her husband.

Needless to say, the next morning, when Ren set off to the lightning country to search for his beloved in the mountains, Minato convinced the Hokage to let him lead his own search party of one to the eastern shores where a small island lay off the coast. Since the war it had been known as the Wave Country. But before then it had gone by a very different name…

* * *

The first time Minato saw a whirlpool was when he was eighteen, crossing the strait between the fire country and the wave country in what felt like the smallest, most unreliable boat ever built by human hands. Kushina had told him about them, but she had neglected to mention that they were apparently _deadly_.

Perhaps she, like the fisherman who had kindly offered to ferry him across free of charge, was simply so used to them that they took this in their stride. "Lose a lot of people in these waters!" the man said, pummelling the sweeping waves with his oars. One hit the bough, sending the boat shooting six feet into the air, and while Minato may have turned green and clung onto his seat for dear life, the man just laughed. "We get so many whirlpools here because this is where the north ocean meets the east ocean and when they have different tide levels the waters just churn! Isn't it magnificent? We didn't call it the Whirlpool country for nothing!"

"Is it ever calm?" Minato asked, fighting down rising nausea.

"Never!" the fisherman called back to him cheerfully. "The trick is to predict where the whirlpools will appear! If one opens up right beneath you, you get sucked in and that'll be the end of you."

Minato witnessed one such vortex appear in the waves just a few metres to their right. For a horrible moment the back end of the tiny boat started to drift towards that swirling black hole in the violent waters. In the next moment the strong arms of the fisherman won out and they began to move forward again.

"You should build a bridge!" Minato advised him, once he'd recovered his voice.

"Yeah, we'll get right on that!"

Never before had Minato been so glad to feel solid ground beneath his feet again. When they reached the tiny dock, the fisherman thought he was so ill that he was invited to sit down on the flattest patch of grass they could find while his wife offered him a flask of warm fish soup that was supposed to settle his stomach.

"Your first time to the island, huh?" the fisherman patted his back sympathetically. "You're a ninja but you're not one of the Whirlpoolers, are you? They come back sometimes. But they come less and less these days. There's not much here for them."

Minato looked about the port. Small as it was, it bore the old signs of war and dilapidation. There were no ninjas here, just civilians who made their living off the fish. "Has a girl with red hair come by recently?" Minato enquired queasily.

"You're the first visitor I've seen in years," said the fisherman. If Kushina had returned here she must have chosen another route as no one else had seen her either.

"Are there any other settlements on the island? Any other people?"

"There used to be the ninja village, of course… and this port used to be bigger before it was razed. Every who could, fled. We're it, I'm afraid. All you'll find past here are ruins."

Despite the warnings, Minato thanked the man for his help and his wife for the fishy broth and then he set off inland, following a brick road that had almost disappeared beneath the encroaching growth of unchecked grass and vegetation. This was, they assured him, the road to Uzushiogakure, the village hidden in the whirlpool tides, which was one of the most apt names ever given to a hidden village since those whirlpools did a lot to deter all but the most determined travellers.

The broken road led him through the hills and around the mountainous peak at the centre of the island. Landslides seemed to be a problem in this subtropical corner of paradise. Many times Minato emerged from the thick cover of trees to find the remains of the road ahead lying at the bottom of a deep gully or buried completely beneath a new hill, making it impossible for anyone but a ninja to pick his way across the obstacles to continue on.

He knew he was getting close when he picked up a post from a bed of ivy; it had been worn almost faceless but he could still make out the markings of the Whirlpool symbol, the same design as the necklace Kushina had given him all those years ago. It was just a little taste of the kind of destruction he would find further up the road, as there was certainly nothing else in these tranquil forests that hinted at the kind of slaughter that had taken place here ten years ago. The lilt of birdsong could disarm him, and when the salty breeze came off the ocean to stir the gentle treetops it was hard to imagine a more peaceful place.

When Minato came across the first ruin he almost missed it. What first looked to him like a mass of vines and discarded driftwood was, on closer inspection, all that remained of a house. What could be salvaged had been taken, possibly by the fisherman at the port to rebuild their town, and all that was left was the skeleton of foundations that had become as much a part of the forest as the forest had become part of it.

There were more further up the road, and soon the remains flanked him on all sides like line upon line of graves. Once this may have been an avenue of homes, winding through the forest towards the famous village, and if Minato closed his eyes he could almost imagine them rising up around him. Back in the academy there had been textbooks on the other ninja villages, and he remembered the chapter on the Whirlpool village well even before it had fallen, though mostly what he remembered were the pictures. It had been a distinctive village, surrounded by hills and bisected by an immense river spanned by gleaming red bridges.

Minato reached the end of his road and looked down the hillside to the village below.

Ten years… and it was like the war had only ended yesterday. The remains of chaos and destruction spread for miles. Buildings tumbled into each other. Broken, faded red poles jutted out of the river like bare ribs, all the remained of the grand bridges that had captured Minato's attention in his school books. Black scorches engulfed huge stretches of debris where forgotten fires must have once raged, and dead, cracking trees forbid the surrounding greenery from intruding. Perhaps the forest wouldn't dare reclaim land that was so tainted with bloodshed and ghosts? And perhaps that went for the other inhabitants of the island too, for while the houses on the road may have been picked clean by vultures and left to be consumed by nature, the village itself must have lain untouched for a decade. Looking upon it was like looking at a fresh battle field.

Was Kushina really down there?

Minato was not religious or even very spiritually observant, but he may have offered a small prayer to all the souls that had been lost here as he descended the road into the village, hoping they wouldn't mind him disturbing their resting place.

The streets were silent, except for the salty breeze that whistled through buildings like air through broken teeth. He was surprised at how the strong smell of charred wood and metal clung to the village, even to this day, though the last fire must have been put out by the rain years ago. Over there was all that was left of a tea house, it's dusty sign just about all that had survived intact. Then there was another building that remained miraculously standing, despite the entirety of the ground floor having been blown out; it rocked in the breeze, propped up only by the remains of the buildings to either side of it.

There was nothing that didn't bear the marks of destruction, and what hadn't been destroyed had been defaced by vandals. That was perhaps what churned Minato's stomach the most. It was one thing to see the natural ravages of a war. Another to come to an old monument at a crossroads and see the engraved face of the village's founder smeared with red paint and insults. The graffiti was everywhere, signed by the same word over and over again. Reformists. _Reformists_. 'We take this village and make it our own', they claimed.

Yet where were they now, he wondered? Overwhelmed with the idea of rebuilding this monstrosity from scratch, had they simply fled to the other villages, posing as refugees? Were they proud of themselves?

A flash of red caught his eye, and his jerked his gaze down one long avenue where he could have sworn he saw someone with red hair just disappear over the shell of a fallen tower.

"Kushina…" he blurted, and hurried down the avenue after her. As he scrambled up onto the remains of the tower, he paused and looked around from his vantage point, wondering which way she might have gone. He'd found the edge of the village, and from here she had either turned down a path of rubble and blackened timber, or she had gone straight ahead, past the village boundaries to unruly fields of wild grass and flowers.

Something about Kushina told him she would always follow the flowers.

Minato jogged on, and sure enough it wasn't long before he spotted a figure some distance away, seated at the base of a large, grass-covered mound. There was no mistaking that glorious sheet of tomato-red hair that cascaded down her back to pool on the ground. As far as he could see she was only sitting there, facing the mound, and it was one among many, all as perfectly square as the next one.

He'd seen enough war to know what mass graves looked like.

At this safe distance, Minato stopped dead. Everything the Hokage had said rolled through his mind like a clap of thunder.

_Unstable. _

_Dangerous. _

_She could hurt a lot of people… without ever intending to. _

_Something else that is far bigger and more terrible than you and I can fathom. _

And as Minato watched her, he saw her lift her hand… and twiddle her finger in her ear before bringing it away to examine her findings.

He suddenly laughed. _What an idiot_, he told himself. _I can't believe I nearly bought all that crap._

Like a terrific weight had been lifted off his shoulders, Minato started forward. He was too relieved to see her to be bothered by the thought of Konoha's state of emergency and all the teams of tracker-nin scouring the country for this temperamental redhead. As he approached he slipped his backpack off his shoulder and reached inside to withdraw the carefully wrapped package he'd brought all the way from Konoha. He'd intended to give them to Kushina, but now he knew there was a better use for them.

So, although they were slightly crushed and wilted, when Minato came to stand to beside Kushina he placed the lupins on the ground next to the wild flowers she had gathered. It was a meagre offering to her mother, and all the other faceless and nameless people who rested here, but it was all he had.

He sat down beside his friend and smiled at her wide-eyed stare of astonishment.

"Do you know how much trouble you're in?" he asked her, aiming for exasperation but he knew he sounded too pleased to see her. "I count that two ANBU divisions and a rescue mission to another village to recover one girl because she forgot to tell anyone where she was going."

"What's that about?" Kushina muttered, ducking her head.

"Beats me." He shrugged, deciding it was not worth discussing. Not yet. "You were supposed to wait for me."

"I got tired of waiting," she said. "And you would only have tried to stop me."

"Or maybe I would have come with you?"

"Would you have really wanted to come here?" she asked incredulously.

That was a question easily answered. "I'm here, aren't I?" He turned to look at the mound before them. Up close he could see that each grave was marked with a number of stakes, upon which were marked names and symbols. This was possibly the work of the whirlpoolers who occasionally returned, looking for family members they'd lost. The newest marker bore the unintelligible scribble of Kushina's handwriting, and all he could make out was the surname, 'Uzumaki'.

"Is this where your mother lies?" he asked softly.

She nodded. "I remember it clearly. Second from the end… unless they added more pits after I left, in which case she's over there somewhere. I don't suppose it really matters."

He vividly remembered the time she had told him her own hitai-ate had been reclaimed out of one of these pits, and how she had crawled for days through stinking bodies to find her mother when she couldn't have been much older than eight. She had brought it with her now. He could see the white ribbons stark in her hair and the silver plate covering her forehead, flashing in the light as he lifted her head and stared into space. Was she remembering that time?

"It seems like there's a lot of bad memories in this place," he said, looking over his shoulder at the crushed remnants on the village.

"Yes," Kushina said fairly, "but there are good memories too. This was where I was born and raised. This was the field I played in with my friends, and this at least hasn't changed much. Do you see that cherry tree?"

Minato looked at the proud, green tree in the middle of the meadow. "Sure."

"That was our climbing tree. You can still see the rope we used to swing from. I fell off once and cut my leg really deeply on a stone." She lifted her right leg to show him a pale white scar on her calf. A very shapely calf. "I cried like such a baby. Why isn't Ren with you?"

It took Minato a second to realise she'd changed the subject fast enough to give him whiplash. "Wha- Ren? He thought you'd been kidnapped or something. He's uh… on his way to Kumo."

"Oh. Good." Without explaining what she meant by that remark, she rose to her feet and dusted the grass off her backside. "Do you want to see my house?"

She might have been any other girl, asking him back for dinner to meet her family or see her collection of pets. Except he'd seen her village. He knew there wasn't a house left standing. "Uh… sure?"

Evidently pleased, she offered him her hand and pulled him to his feet. "This way."

She led him back through the jungle of smashed buildings and crossed the river. They pressed up a slope and past the debris of a grand spire that Kushina said had been their equivalent of a Hokage tower. "My dad worked there," she said blithely.

When she finally pointed out her house, Minato was surprised. Back in its day it must have been large and detached with an expansive garden, and even though now most of the upper floors were now spread across the walled yard, it was clear to see that Kushina had come from a far more affluent family than he'd realised. Still, when Kushina threw her shoulder against her own front door and knocked it down, he held back. "Is that really safe?" he worried.

"Nope," she replied, pulling him inside.

The house within had been stripped of its furnishings and gutted by fire. Minato stood on the threshold staggered at how utterly ruined it was, noting how part of the collapsed roof could be see on the staircase, and the entire back wall was simply missing.

"The reformists did this?" he asked her.

"Yes." Kushina crossed the barren floor of what could have been her old living room to examine a badly burnt painting that – against all odds – remained hanging on the wall. "This was one of the first places they attacked when they started. They were pretty thorough."

Minato stared about him. "Isn't there anything left?"

"Anything of value would have been scavenged by the people in the port town." When he made a derisive sound, Kushina glanced back at him. "The way I see it, if we left it behind they were entitled to it. The war hit them pretty hard too. Besides, if it was anything of _real_ value, Whirlpoolers had methods of hiding things so thoroughly no one would ever find them."

"What do you mean?"

Kushina lifted the painting off the wall and turned it over in her hands. The back came off easily revealing the blank side of the canvas within. She lifted it out and brushed her hand over it.

At once an inky swirl of pattern emerged, reacting to her chakra. After a moment's hesitation, like a musician who hadn't touched her instrument in years and wasn't sure of the right notes, she pressed her fingers against certain points of the pattern and turned her hand, like turning a handle.

The pattern disappeared, and upon the canvas now sat a heavy bag of coins. "Sealing jutsu is our specialty," she explained. "These seals are impossible to break unless you know the exact sealing method used and the combination of seals. My mother hid our money all over the house when the Trouble started, but I guess most of the seals were destroyed by fires. Not that it matters much; Whirlpool money isn't worth the metal its stamped on these days." She tossed the bag of coins to the ground like a clod of dirt and went to investigate some debris in the corner of the room. She was much more interested in the charred remains of an old cassette tape, and a lump she swore was her old stuffed rabbit.

"I've heard a bit about Whirlpool's sealing jutsu," he said, as he obligingly helped her lift a floorboard so she could root around for an old pencil case she used to hide down there. "Is it true you can seal people?"

"Yes," said Kushina. "In the most advanced forms, we could seal people into objects, and objects into people. And chakra… you can seal someone's chakra into another person. My mother told me of a technique where you can bargain with the God of Death to seal people's souls if you're willing to pay the price, though I think that one could just be a myth."

"Incredible," he murmured. "Is there a size limit? Like, could you seal a mountain into a mouse?"

Kushina sat back on her heels, looking decidedly uncomfortable. She hadn't found her pencil case, but she had found a marble. "Maybe. I don't know much about it…" she said, looking oddly at the glass ball rolling around her palm. It was the only thing in this house unscathed by fire. "It's a lost art. It died with the village."

"That's a shame," he said.

She shrugged. "Maybe it's better off lost."

"Why? It's your village's legacy."

She shrugged again, more stiffly now, and tucked the marble into her pocket as she rose. "There isn't anything left for me here," she said. "Would you like to see my most favourite place in the world?"

There was that sense of whiplash again. "Sure."

"We'll have to be quick, before the light fades!" She grabbed his hand to get him moving again, out the broken door and down the hill again, past a sloping row of shops whose glass fronts were red with graffiti.

Down by the river a little boat was waiting for them with all Kushina's supplies stashed inside the hull. This must have been how she'd gotten to the island, and why the port people had never seen her. "You must have taken the long way around the island," he said.

"Well, yeah," she responded. "Only an idiot takes the whirlpools head on."

Minato suddenly felt cold and stupid. "Well, yeah…"

She took one oar as he took another, and after a little muddling he worked out the rhythm that came so naturally to his friend. Living on an island in a village divided by a great river she must have spent plenty of time on the water, and soon they were surging along, helped by a strong current heading out to sea.

The village's desolation rolled past them, and even though Minato had _seen_ pictures of this place at the height of its glory, it was getting more difficult to imagine the mountains of rubble and bricks had once been a bustling civilisation. They were leaving it behind now, heading towards the open sea. At the river mouth stood four towering statues to welcome travellers entering by boat – or guard against trespassers. Minato looked up with interest as they rowed between them, taking note of the names engraved on plaques at the feet of each figure. "Are those your village leaders?" he asked.

Kushina looked at them blankly. "Yes."

The third was headless, but the plaque at his feet made Minato point. "That one was called Uzumaki too. Is that a common name for Whirlpoolers?"

Her blank look switched to him. "Yes," she said flatly. "But he was also my father."

Minato looked back at the statue more closely. At least this explained why he worked in the administration building. "So… where's his head?"

Kushina shrugged as if she didn't care. She had never mentioned her father before today, let alone the fact that he'd been the leader of her village. That was usually something people would boast about endlessly, but right now Kushina looked like she wished he hadn't brought it up. She had turned her attention to the wide bay they were now drifting into, and after a moment of looking about and gathering her bearings, she pointed to a distant slab of rock thrusting up through the water with one sad looking tree growing on it. "Over there!" she said. "We can moor the boat there."

"What's over there?" he asked. One bit of ocean looked just like the next as far as Minato was concerned.

"You'll see." She smiled at him and doubled down with her oar, forcing him to keep up or see their boat start turning in circles.

The moment the hull bumped snugly against the rock, Kushina jumped up to loop a length of rope over one of the tree's branches.

Then, to Minato's mingling horror and delight, she began to take off her clothes.

"W-What are you doing?" he stammered as she battled to drag her blue tunic up and over her head to reveal she wore a black sports bra underneath.

"They'll just get wet. You better take them off too," she said.

After a mere moment's hesitation, Minato's scrambling hands began tearing at his clothes, not bothering to ask for a reason. His green vest hit the deck, followed by his black jersey and protective mesh undershirt. His shoes nearly went overboard in his rush, and as soon as his pants drooped around his ankles, Kushina coughed. "Y-You can leave those on," she said quickly, pointing to his boxers.

Likewise, she had decided to keep on her own underwear, both pieces of which were rather large and sensible, and completely mismatched. Other girls might have been self-conscious, standing semi-naked before a boy in the open air, but Kushina was more concerned about the pattern on Minato's boxers. "Cherries?" she asked quietly.

"What's wrong with cherries?" These were his most comfortable pair and that was all that mattered.

This was not a subject Kushina was willing to push too hard, and so she shook her head. "Have you ever gone diving before?" she asked him.

"Not deliberately," he admitted.

"As long as you can swim." She grinned at him and beckoned him with a finger. "Come on. I'll show you the best place in the world."

Kushina suddenly hopped over the side of the boat and dropped into the water with hardly a splash. After a second she surfaced and wiped water from her face. "Come on!"

_Sharks,_ he thought. _Killer jellyfish with tentacles half a mile long. Squid that could shoot up out of the black depths to swallow a man whole._

He'd never wilfully dived into water he couldn't simply walk over, and Inoichi had made him watch a special on sea monsters only a few weeks ago, which had left a more lasting impression on him than he'd realised. However, he had to trust Kushina to know what she was doing, and who would know these waters better than someone who had lived here half her life?

Taking a deep breath, Minato stepped off the boat and plunged into the cool, salty water. When he surfaced, his eyes were squeezed firmly shut.

He heard Kushina laugh at him. "You'll have to open your eyes or you won't see anything," she chided him. "How long can you hold your breath?"

"Until I start drowning," he answered truthfully.

"Then follow me."

Kushina slipped beneath the surface and Minato did the same, forcing his eyes open when every instinct told him it would sting like crazy.

It didn't. Through the crystal clear water he could see Kushina propelling herself downward with the powerful strokes of an experienced swimmer, and Minato followed suit. There were other movements down here, he noticed. Not sharks or eels or squids, but fish. Shoals of little silver things flickered like coins as they changed direction and scattered. Bigger yellow ones floated more sedately around the rocks that moored their boat.

Minato had never seen anything like it. Ahead of him Kushina stopped and anchored herself to the rocks with a hand. Her head turned to look at him and her hair fanned out in an incredible wave around her. She might as well have been a mermaid. Right then the air very nearly left Minato's lungs in a rush, and only by a masterful force of will did he keep control of himself and accept the hand she held out to him to pull him closer.

She was showing him something on the rocks. It wasn't hard to miss: bright orange, with five legs, Minato might never have seen a starfish in person but he recognised it instantly. Kushina pushed his hand towards it, to show him he could touch it, and it felt as cold and hard as it looked. The other things on the rock were quite different and not so nearly recognisable, and when he touched one soft, squishy-looking pod-thing, its little rubbery tentacles stuck like glue.

An anemone, Kushina later explained, which was trying to eat his finger.

Kushina wanted to go deeper, where the descending rocks met the bed of the bay and formed a field of coloured rocks and swaying things that looked like plants but were in fact just more 'animals'. Life teemed wherever he looked. Tiny coloured fish flitted between rocks like sparkling jewels, or roved in packs. Crabs scuttling away from them into crevices, and Minato nearly had heart failure when he put his hand out on what looked like a rock, only to have it explode beneath his fingers into a very panicked octopus with eight flailing limbs.

He had to go up for air at that point, and Kushina joined him, laughing. "You should have seen your face!"

"How can you laugh like that when I nearly died?" he asked, a touch dramatically.

"There's nothing dangerous down there," she said. "Me and my friends used to come here all the time. If a bunch of seven year olds can cope, so can you, Minato."

Well, when she put it like that...

They dove again, and though Minato kept close to Kushina in case anything else decided to jump out at him, he couldn't deny there really was something incredible about this reef, as much as it was alien to him. He couldn't put a name to most of the things he saw, and some things he had never expected to see in his life: like little black seahorses that wound themselves around seaweed, or clams sitting on rocks, as large as life, inviting some idiot to stick his hand inside their jaws (Kushina stopped him, however), or sinister looking eels that poked their heads out of holes to watch them swim past.

Kushina's favourite were the little red fish whose fins fanned out like trailing silk, and Minato thought he understood why; their scales and Kushina's hair were almost identical in colour. Once they surfaced again Kushina told him, with her face glowing, that these were the very fish she'd told him about years ago, the ones she used to collect with her friends. "I'd collect some today if I thought they would survive the trip home," she said.

"So you're going to come back to Konoha with me?" he asked.

Her smile, so guileless and carelessly given a moment ago, dimmed a little. "Isn't that why you're here? To make sure I do?"

She swam for the boat and pulled herself out of the water. Minato paddled after her quickly. "Only if you want to," he said, grabbed the side of the boat.

In the act of wringing out her hair, she paused and glanced down at him. "What?"

"Well… you always wanted to rebuild your village. If you wanted to stay and do that, I don't think there's much I could do to stop you."

"Then what are you here for, if you're not going to drag me back?"

He shrugged. "Because Ren and the Hokage and even your sensei seem convinced that you're like some kind of loose cannon that's dangerous enough to blow at any – _something-totally-just-touched-my-foot-_!"

"You're such a baby," Kushina admonished mildly, reaching down to pull him into the boat with her. They were both a little wet and slippery, and Minato rapidly forgot the thing in the water – which he was _sure_ had been a kraken – in the ensuing tangle of naked slithering limbs. Somehow he ended up in the bottom of the boat while Kushina sat on the central bench, continuing to squeeze water out of her hair with a slight blush, eyes averted.

"Well," he said, sitting up. "That was fun."

He had meant their little undersea adventure, but the way Kushina now turned to scowl at him made him wonder if she thought he'd enjoyed their clumsy tussle a little too much. "I mean, it's not that-"

"Do you think I'm dangeorus?" she asked, interrupting him abruptly.

After a thoughtful pause he shrugged, watching her just as closely as she watched him for his reactions. "I don't know. Are you?"

It should have been a nonsensical question, but Kushina looked like she was chewing the inside of her cheek as she mechanically threaded her hair into a thick fish-tail plait. He could tell she was worried. "I'm a pacifist," she said plainly, more to herself than to him.

He didn't point out that some of history's most famous pacifists were also the most fearsome warriors of their time. He just said, "Absolutely. I've never seen you do anything dangerous. You put the knife in the toaster sometimes to get the toast out, but that's about it."

"So… they didn't tell you why they think I'm dangerous?"

"I'm not 'cleared' to know, or something," Minato said, scraping water out of his own hair and ruffling it artfully until it stuck out in all directions. "I must have misunderstood something, though. He's probably just anxious to get you back because he thinks you're going to be his neice by marriage soon. If there was anything big going on, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

Kushina was silent.

Minato looked up at her and saw her staring off across the ocean, to where the horizon was beginning to turn orange with the sinking sun. "Kushina?" he called softly. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

She swallowed and looked at him, her whirlpool eyes had turned a dark blue that showed none of the lively green he was used to. He was so caught in them that he didn't notice how her hand pressed over her belly self-consciously, like she was worried he would see something he shouldn't. "I thought it would be ok if Ren knew," she said quietly, holding his gaze. "Ren changed a little while ago. He stopped treating me like he was my boyfriend, and more like he was my keeper, always wanting to know what I was doing, how I was feeling, where I was going. I thought it was just because he was jealous of you, but then his aunt, Biwako, took me aside and said that she had told Ren everything, because she thought he had a right to know since he was so serious about me. Now I know why it feels so weird being with Ren these days. He doesn't love me anymore. He's terrified of me.

"I couldn't stand it, so that's why I left." She raised her eyes to the remains of her village, and as she blinked, tears flashed down her cheeks. "Everything was such shambles that I thought I could return here and start rebuilding my life like it was before my father destroyed everything. It's stupid… but I was scared you would find out the truth too. I can take Ren turning his back on me, but if you did as well…?"

He seized her damp hand in his. "I would _never_ turn my back on you," he said fiercely.

"Ren said the same kind of things until he knew the truth," she said, pulling away from his grip as she always did when she thought he was getting too close. "You don't know anything."

"I don't _care_," he insisted. "Whatever it is, I don't care. You could tell me you're from another planet, and I wouldn't care. If you said you turn into a fiend during the full moon who can only survive of human blood, I'd get you all the blood you need if mine wasn't enough. If you have some kind of deadly plague, I don't mind if I catch it because I'd rather die with you than live without you. If your secret is so terrible that you have to flee the village, I would help you to hide, if that was what you wanted. And if you need to rebuild Whirlpool, I would get you all the bricks and timber you need and we could start tomorrow."

Kushina stared at him with perfectly round eyes. "You'd rather die with me?" she squeaked.

"Well," he conceded, "ideally, living with you for a very long and happy time is vastly more preferable."

Dismayed, she wiped her cheeks. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"But I feel them," he said firmly.

"You shouldn't. Not for me," she whispered. "You're amazing and strong and so brave and beautiful. Why would you ever have needed me as a friend? How can someone who can have anyone and anything in the world say things like that to someone like me?"

He offered his hand to her, and was glad when she took it and wrapped her fingers so tightly around his that it felt like she was afraid to let go. "You're way more amazing than I am. When I came back from the war I didn't know what to do with myself, but you picked me up and set me on my feet like it was nothing. You gave my father a funeral and you made more of an effort to get to know him than I ever did. You stopped me from killing an innocent, and your cooking is way better than mine is. Also, you just saved me from a sea monster-"

"It was just a bit of seaweed."

"My point stands. I am what I am because of you. You were the one who chose to be my friend and I know how privileged I am for that. I'll always be here for you, whether you want me or not."

She looked down at their joined hands and her thumb ran lightly over his knuckles. They'd shared affectionate touches before, and Minato liked to steal them whenever he could, but there was something deliberate about this that carried a weight neither of them were familiar with.

Perhaps because they were both in their underwear.

"I believe you," she said quietly at last. "And I _do_ want you… _here _with me, I mean. Coming back to this place was a bad idea. There's so much blood and bad memories it almost crushed me, until…"

"Until?" he wondered.

She looked up and smiled into his eyes. "You arrived."

The enormity of her secret still hung over them, but it receded like a spectre with the setting sun. Teams of tracker-nin were out searching for her right now, the Hokage was undoubtedly still losing hair over her disappearance, and Minato was as lost as ever as to how one girl could make a world leader sweat. He glanced at the figures in the distance, guarding the mouth of the Uzushiogakure's river, but the shadows had closed over the island and it was impossible to make out the third headless figure: Kushina's father. He knew enough, for now at least, to know that the pain that engulfed the daughter's life was almost certainly down to the father.

Kushina shifted down off her seat, still gripping his hand tightly. "Lie down with me," she said.

"What?" Minato's pulse leapt in his throat.

Spreading out their dry clothes on the rough boards beneath them, Kushina lay down and watched him expectantly until he settled beside her. They enormous sky stretched out above like a canopy of softly changing lights that turned from violet to pink, to yellow and red, and then a deep dark blue. Minato might have been fascinated by the show if he wasn't so acutely aware of Kushina beside him, and the heat of her hand in his, or the smooth bare skin of her arm pressed to his own.

"This is why I love this place," she said, lifting her free hand to point at the heavens. "Look."

The first star had appeared. Lulled by the sighs of the ocean and the gently rocking waves beneath them, Minato gradually began to relax and watch the show unfolding before his eyes. They said nothing as the sky deepened to black and the stars shone down like pin-pricks of light puncturing the universe – and not just a few, or a few hundred, but _thousands_. Minato hadn't seen this many stars in his life. He'd never before bothered to stop long enough to notice.

"This is the best place to see the stars, so far away from all the lights and pollution," Kushina said eventually, when they could even trace the milky-way from one end of the sky to the other. "My mother used to say that every star represents a life. When you see a shooting star, it means someone has passed on. But there are new stars being birthed all the time… and there are millions more that you can't see with the naked eye just yet."

"Which one are you?" he asked.

She lifted their joined hands and pointed. "That one right there."

"Where?"

"That dim one next to that blazing bright one."

"Nah," he said dismissively. "You'll be that one there."

"That's the north star!" she protested.

"So?"

"My head isn't that big."

"Then we'll be those two over there."

"Huh?"

"The two right next to each other, like they're lying together in a boat."

Kushina moved her head closer to his to follow his pointing finger. "Oh, yeah," she murmured, with a soft laugh, and for a long time they lay, contemplating the stars with her head on his shoulder and her hand curled in his. She couldn't have known have fast his heart raced for her.

At last she whispered, "We'll go back to Konoha tomorrow."

He smiled, quite relieved despite his promise that he would stay and rebuild her village with her, stone by stone, if that was what she wanted. "Cool," he said, in an understated tone.

Kushina turned her face to his to look at him, and instinctively he did the same. Their noses almost bumped but neither drew back. They'd been caught in a moment which might have been inevitable since the moment she accepted his hand, and they both knew what came next. Deep green eyes searched his, uncertainty tinged with hope, reflecting in his own.

When their lips came together, Minato had never known anything like it.

And from that point on, everything changed.

* * *

TBC


	19. The First Steps

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Nineteen: The First Steps

* * *

What Minato had previously thought of as love, in its unrequited form, turned out to be the pale, anemic shadow of the real thing. To love someone was one thing, but to love and _be loved_ in return was like stumbling upon the answer to the meaning of life; a question that staid old philosophers had spent their lives asking and Minato had stumbled upon unintentionally.

Here were all the things that mattered in the world:

Kushina's smile.

Kushina's laugh.

Kushina's hand seeking his.

Minato had been in relationships before and never once felt the charged connection he now felt with Kushina, where every time he looked at her his heart raced and he wondered if he was dreaming and when he would wake up. The journey back from Whirlpool was the easiest Minato had ever made; he barely noticed the distance they travelled or the landmarks they passed, only that Kushina was with him every step of the way like a guiding light. On the one hand it was like nothing between them had changed and she chattered away like a monkey, happier than he'd seen her in weeks; his familiar best friend. But it was different also, in that he could stop and kiss her whenever he felt like it and she didn't seem to mind. In fact she seemed to quite enjoy it, when she wasn't doing the same to him.

The trip to Konoha might have taken a little longer than expected, due to all the frequent pauses, but Minato knew it was a memory he was going to take to the grave as one of the best days in his life. More enlivening than the glory of victory over one of the seven swordsmen. More exhilarating than _all_ his battles combined. It was easy to forget everything and everyone else in the world when Kushina looped her arm through his and grinned at him like she was the happiest girl in the world. Knowing he was the one who'd brought out this amazing smile of hers certainly made him the happiest boy.

But she dimmed a little when they finally began their approach toward the village gates. She must have known from the moment she set out that there would be in a whole pile of trouble when she returned – _if_ she had even originally planned on returning. Her hand clenched his tightly as if she could suck all his support and courage right out through his palm, though as soon as they were within sight of gates she slipped away to a distance that could have been measured in platonic units.

Minato let her go. He had no problem with public displays of affection, but he knew perfectly well that there were other attachments she would have to deal with before she could be seen holding his hand in public. And that attachment's name was Sarutobi Ren.

He should have felt bad about stealing another man's girl away, right from under his nose, but Minato felt remarkably good about the fact. One could argue he was only taking back what Ren had stolen from him originally.

"You found her then," said one of the guards at the gate, speaking of Kushina as if she was nothing more than an errant cat. "That's good. We had a bet on to see who would bring her back first." He gestured to his deflated comrades sulking near the reception office. "They bet Sarutobi-sempai would catch her first."

"It didn't cross your mind that neither would be able to 'catch' me?" Kushina asked sharply.

The guard stared at her, nonplussed. "You're here, aren't you?"

"Because I choose to be!"

"_Riiight_."

Kushina raised her hand to give him another piece of her mind – or to beat him around the head – Minato quickly caught it and pulled her along. "Must be getting along now!" he called cheerfully, before she could initiate a brawl. "The Hokage will be relieved to know you're safe and sound."

"Of course, I am," she gasped indignantly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

And although the Hokage _was_ relieved, he was also palpably worst of all – he was disappointed. The moment Minato and Kushina had entered his office he'd heaved a painful sigh as if some terrible catastrophe had been averted and then settled back to fix Kushina with a look like a teacher about to slip into a lecture about being let down. Because that was exactly where the Hokage was going, Minato was pointedly thanked and excused, for Kushina had to face this trial alone.

Minato didn't go far. Though he was denied the opportunity to press his ear to the Hokage's chamber and find out what exactly it was about Kushina that made the Hokage fear her so much, (too many witnesses) he lingered in the lobby downstairs. News must have spread pretty quickly that Uzumaki Kushina was back in town, as Ren came storming through soon after. Minato actually tried to duck out of sight when he saw the younger Sarutobi coming. Ren couldn't possibly have known what Minato had been doing with his girlfriend for the best part of the last two days, and yet Minato still got the sense that –witnesses or no – Ren would deck him right now if he saw him.

It was another half an hour before Kushina reappeared, though he heard her angry voice descending the stairs before he saw her.

"-I_ never_ asked you to!"

"You could have at least told me where you were going-"

"I don't have to tell you anything! I wanted to be alone!"

"You had the whole village on high alert just because you _'wanted to be alone'_, Kushina-"

"Not my problem!"

"It was irresponsible!"

"No – irresponsible is running off to Kumo to start accusing them of kidnap!"

"I was worried about you!"

"And you thought I was as helpless as to get caught by Kumo-nin! Not even Minato is stupid enough to think that!"

What did she mean by, _'Not even'?_

"Minato, Minato, Minato!" Ren shouted his name loud enough that half the people in the entrance hall turned and looked at him. 'Minato' himself sidled further behind a potted plant. "Everyone just _loves_ Minato, don't they?"

"Stop it! You're being ridiculous!"

"Am I? My girlfriend lives with the overhyped village pin-up and spends more time with him than she does with me - what have I got to worry about?"

"If you don't trust me – fine! You won't have to worry about that and I won't have to worry about protecting your ego if we're not together anymore. So that's that!"

Ren was left stunned on the steps, and with her piece said, Kushina carried on without him. She sailed past Minato's plant. "Come on, Minato, we're going." He followed meekly. Despite the grudge he'd harboured against Sarutobi Ren, which perhaps never would have been the case if he'd had the decency to fall for someone else, he sympathised a little. He'd just been quite publicly dumped by Uzumaki Kushina, and even though she had insisted that he didn't love her anymore, Minato was pretty sure only a man in love could look that heartbroken.

But that was nothing to how Kushina felt. Minato followed her homeward, keeping all his bursting questions to himself. What had the Hokage said to her? Were things really over between her and Ren now? Would another kiss be considered 'too soon'?

Halfway to nowhere, Kushina suddenly pivoted and tried to march right back the way they'd come, and would have if Minato hadn't caught her to stop her ploughing into him. "I have to go apologise," she said, looking like she had the day the Yellow Flasher had died. "I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have said those things – not like that."

"You want to undo the breakup?" he asked, heart palpitating in his chest. He didn't know what he'd do if Kushina suddenly gave up before their relationship had even started.

"No, it was the right thing to do, but the wrong way to do it!" Kushina put her face in her hands. "And worst of all, he was right! I _am_ selfish and irresponsible, and he was right not to trust me with you because... because _look_ what happened! I cheated on him!"

"Only very briefly," he said reassuringly.

"I didn't set out to humiliate him like that, Minato," she sighed. "And I don't want to hurt him."

"Ren's a big boy," Minato told her, reaching out to take her hands. "I'm sure he'll get over it."

Her cool fingers squeezed around his briefly, and before she slipped her hands out of reach behind her back she flashed him a sad, half-smile half-grimace. "Yeah, but... for now, maybe we shouldn't tell anyone about us. It feels like we'd be rubbing it in his face."

The palpitations were getting worse. "You want to keep our relationship a secret?" This was not something he was used to hearing.

"Just for a while! I don't want Ren to think I had you lined up ready to go," she said feelingly. "It's not a problem, is it?"

"I was kinda planning on shouting it from the rooftops later..." he admitted.

"I know! I feel the same way, but let's keep it between us for now."

He wasn't in a strong position to argue. After having just caught the elusive wisp between his fingers, he was convinced that the slightest upset could make him lose her again. That didn't mean he couldn't have fun with her, however. "Oh, I get it," he said, affecting a wounded expression. "You're ashamed of me."

For a moment she looked startled, as if she was about to launch into desperate reassurances, when she suddenly laughed. The idea of being ashamed of him was too absurd for her to believe. "More like I'm worried for my own life. Do you know how much people hated Yoshi when you were dating her? There was at least one death threat a week."

"Wow, really?"

"Yes. I sent most of them."

Minato touched his chest. "That's so sweet..." He had the very strong urge to kiss her beaming face right then, but if she wouldn't let him do it in public... "Let's go home," he said suddenly, steering her very fast towards the direction of their street.

"Why?" she asked, mystified by his sudden urgency.

"I want to cook you dinner," he lied.

Kushina audibly gulped. She clearly remembered his cooking. "How about _I_ make us dinner from now on?"

Regardless of all that had happened; the village's high alert, the Hokage's cryptic words about Kushina's condition, the disappearance of the Kazekage and the turbulent international relations that echoed the heralds of previous wars, and the fact that his girlfriend didn't want to be seen in public with him – Minato felt like the happiest, luckiest man in the world.

Because Kushina's cooking could solve all those problems in her own way. Her food was _that_ good.

* * *

Konoha was moving through a time of great changes, and one such change concerned Namikaze Minato, though noted only by those around him. If asked, anyone would have said Minato was a pleasant guy and a good companion to have around, and if you needed a good team leader, he was your man if a little intense; but since coming back from his mission to 'rescue' Uzumaki Kushina, there was a new life to him. Bemused friends drew around him like rats to the pied piper. There had always been something about Minato that had attracted people. Now he simply made them fall in love with him on sight.

The middle-aged librarian, who had never really noticed Minato any more than the other young shinobi who came to study her books on combat, was shocked by the arrival of this blond beatific angel that appeared at her desk asking for books on the history of the Whirlpool nation. He smiled at her, enthused his love for her knitted cardigan, called her by the name on her badge, and quite unwittingly had her privately planning his marriage to her daughter by the time he finally left the library with all the reference books he desired.

The likes of Chouza, Inoichi, and Shikaku, who had once been absolutely convinced that all Minato's woes were intrinsically related to the state of his virginity, decided he must finally have gotten laid. Without ever confirming if it was true or not, Minato accepted their beer and congratulations while carefully trying to stop the rumour from reaching Hatake Sakumo's ears, who was better at adding two and two together than three chimps. Their relationship may have improved since the trip to Suna, but the ceasefire could be shattered by a reckless comment in front of an overprotective sensei.

Maybe it was his subordinates who benefited the most. Previous missions under Minato were always meticulous affairs. Why rush a mission in one night when you could take three and prepare for every contingency? Minato regularly had his chunin subordinates staking out bases and places of interest for more than forty-eight hours before allowing any kind of proactive move. These days Minato was more likely to lead the charge and drag everyone home before supper. It made exciting missions for the chunin who trailed starry-eyes in the wake of their team leader's rampage, but it was almost as if he had something or someone in Konoha he was eager to return to.

As a man of his word, Minato didn't mention his relationship with Kushina to anyone. He thought the inordinate amount of time they spent together should have tipped them off, but no one regarded this as very different from how they'd behaved before. Outwardly, the affection they showed for one another hadn't changed.

No wonder Ren had been so suspicious.

A couple of people were bound to figure it out, however. Mikoto may never have said anything, but her eyes had a tendency to narrow whenever she saw Minato and Kushina in a room together, as if she sensed something had evolved between them and was too polite to broach the subject before they did. Little Kakashi probably knew too. Though they'd made it a game to see how many kisses they could steal behind his back when minding him for Sakumo... sometimes the kid could turn around _real_ fast.

Jiraiya might have been alerted to the fact too by a slip of the tongue. He was by the far the most astonished that Minato had gone from trying to blow him up upon his return to becoming the boy he had once taught before the war had snatched them away. He knew he hadn't been wrong about his student's potential when Minato came over one evening to raid his freezer in search ice cream for Kushina now that the shops were closed and ended up staying well into the night once he had learned that Tsunade had decided to leave the village, taking only Dan's young niece with her to train as her protégé. "Can't handle the blood anymore," Jiraiya rumbled sadly. "And I can't convince her there's anything else to stay for…"

"Even if that's true now, perhaps all she needs is a little time," Minato told him. "I've found the best way to get a girl to come back home is to be honest about your feelings for her."

"Is that so?" Jiraiya raised an eyebrow at him, and then smirked at himself. "Figures. I taught you well in the Art of Women, Minato, and now the student surpasses the master. Maybe I'll take your advice."

But if he had, it never came to anything. Perhaps he never found the courage, or Tsunade rejected him; either way she left the village soon after with Shizune, and Minato never saw her again. The sannin were broken and the hole she left behind in Jiraiya was soon full of cheap booze. Minato hated to reap the benefit of another's misery, but perhaps without his sensei's desire to distract himself he might never have taken a good, long look at his favourite pupil and decided Minato was now ready to inherit his summoning contract.

Beyond them, their relationship was one of the best kept secrets in the village (besides Kushina's secret, of course).

But there were problems with their arrangement too. While Minato patiently waited for Kushina, who in turn was patiently waiting for Ren's heart to heal, he was, as far as the village was concerned, single. The good thing about dating Yoshi was that other girls had kept their distance out of respect, but the longer he denied having a girlfriend, the more persistent his would-be suitors became. Many times he'd found himself lured into conversation with a girl, only to belatedly realise that she wanted more from him than a friendly chat. Some of them were even quite forceful.

For instance, he didn't really know what to do about Ai.

Since the first time she'd kissed him she seemed to have these... expectations. She was still as rude and antagonistic towards him as ever, yet she could switch to bold flirtations like a changing wind, and the latter was just as abusive as the former. In such instances Minato ended up embarrassed and paranoid. Suddenly he understood why Kushina was so cold to compliments. It wasn't a good feeling, not knowing if compliments or come-ons were genuine or just another way of mocking you.

"She had her arm around me the whole time at the training yard," he told Kushina one evening as they watched TV with her head on his shoulder. "What am I supposed to say?"

"You're too nice. Tell her to back off." She must have decided Ai was no real threat. Hearing their boyfriend was being mauled by other women might have alarmed some girls, but nothing could get Kushina down these days. And as long as Kushina was happy, Minato was happy... and only occasionally vexed that any subtle attempt to talk about her 'condition' felt like talking to a wall.

The books he'd borrowed from the library weren't as informative as he'd hoped. As far the historians were concerned, Whirlpool was a quaint former allied nation that had been destroyed by a civil war. The founder and original leader of Uzushiogakure had been a close ally of the first Hokage, and the two clans had intermarried according to one book. After that, relations had always been strong. The lives and rules of all the leaders of Whirlpool were outlined on the pages, and Kushina's father – the third leader – had the dubious honour of illustrating the entries about the beginning of the village's demise. He hadn't been the leader for very long, appointed quickly after the second leader had been killed when a catastrophic natural disaster hit the island, and he was noted only for failing to quell the subsequent unrest until he'd inevitably been killed in one of the first rebellions of the civil war. He'd been succeeded by a fourth leader whose rule had been even shorter.

The Historians seemed to agree that Kushina's father was, at best, an ineffectual leader who'd sped up his village's decline, and at worst was directly responsible for it. This probably explained why his statue had been so badly defaced in Whirlpool.

Was this really why Kushina didn't talk about her father? He supposed disliking your father because he destroyed your village made a lot of sense, but he'd been hoping for a more personal explanation that would have included Kushina's condition. Yet if it was 'personal' stuff he wanted, history books weren't going to be much help.

* * *

"Ah, excuse me?"

Minato replaced the balanced training katana back on the table and turned to the diffident voice behind him. Usually training like a dog and getting up a sweat put the girls off him, at least for an hour or two, but some could be awfully persistent. "Hyuuga-san," he greeted her politely. "What can I do for you?"

"You know who I am?" She looked so ready to faint from the shock that he didn't have the heart to tell her that he personally had no idea who she was. Her family just had a very distinctive look, and it was hard to imagine what other family someone with such pale eyes and dark hair could belong to. She must have only been about fifteen or sixteen. "I, uh... know you probably get asked this all the time... but I, um, was thinking... would you... um... with me...?"

Minato took a deep breath and prepared to rattle off one of his more reliable excuses. _Thank you for the interest, but right now I'm in between relationships. It's very flattering, but I'm still too hung up over my last girlfriend. You'll make someone a very happy human being one day, but right now I'm reassessing my orientation. I will get back to you. _

"I mean – I expect you're very busy," the Hyuuga girl rushed on. "But I've just passed my chunin exam, and I was hoping, probably unrealistically, that you'd um... show me some tips on how to use to katana? As a genin I only used kunai you see, and I'd love to be able to tell my father that I got some instruction off _The_ Yellow Flash. He says you're one of the best katana users he's ever seen."

"Oh. Oh, of course!" Minato grinned with relief. "I'd be happy to help. Do you have a training sword yet?"

"No."

"Then let's sort that out. See, any old stick won't do. The most important thing is to get a weapon that's comfortable to use. Some people think that bigger is better, but you've got to remember that a weapon is an extension of your body. If it isn't perfectly balanced for you personally you might as well be wearing shoes that are too big or gloves with too few fingers."

The Hyuuga girl hung onto his every word. "Yes."

He showed her to the store cupboard where the wooden training katana were stored, took one look at her and offered her one of the shorter, slimmer blades. "We'll see how you get on with that one," he said.

"It's a bit small," she said uncertainly.

"So is mine. Don't tell anyone."

She giggled shyly and followed him to one of the free mats at the centre of the hall, where he proceeded to put up his guard and invited her to take strikes at him. It usually wasn't wise to let a novice take swings at anything but a dummy stuffed with sand, but Minato was pretty confident in his ability to deflect any lucky hits she might make and it wasn't the first time he'd been approached for advice. This way he could feel the weight and speed of her strikes for himself and advise her posture from close quarters. And people always seemed to pick things up faster when presented with the opportunity to smack him around the head, it seemed to be the aspiration for a lot of newbies.

And this girl was no exception to the Hyuuga legacy. She may have been exploiting her eyes a little, but even so, after half an hour of teaching her the basic stance, swing and parry moves, he doubted she would be a novice for very long. "You should probably try sparring with someone closer to your own level," he told her.

"You think I'm ready?" she whispered.

"Sure. There's nothing that motivates people better than getting their first few hits in... so..." he scanned the room. "Pick on Yamanaka Inoichi. He's got a tough skull."

In his brief scan he also noticed someone else standing at the edge of the room, staring at him. The Hyuuga girl noticed too. "Isn't that Hatake Sakumo?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes," he said.

"Does he always stare at you like that."

"Oh, yes." He sighed and turned back to her. "Tell Inoichi I sent you, and he'll play nice, I promise."

She nodded nervously and bowed with a soft, heartfelt thank you before hurrying away. Minato swiped at the sweat beading on his brow and crossed the training hall to where Sakumo appeared to be waiting for him. It was unusual for him to seek Minato out like this. There had to be something up. Like... maybe he'd finally figured out that his precious student was involved and had come to deliver some honest threats of dismemberment should he ever hurt her. Oh, well. If things got ugly, Minato could probably outrun him.

"Sakumo-sensei." He acknowledged the jonin with a polite nod, checking for the subtle lines of tension that could warn him of any impending murder attempt.

"Minato-sensei," Sakumo responded dryly.

Minato cast a sheepish look back at his 'student'. "Yeah, well I get ambushed... it's hard to say no."

"Does it bother you?" Sakumo asked. "People asking for help?"

"Uh, no," he said quickly. "It's better than training alone, or standing back and watching them struggle without offering to help."

Sakumo stroked his chin. "Now is that how you really feel or what you think I want to hear?"

"Why should I care about what you want to hear?" Minato said, largely because he knew that was exactly the kind of thing Hatake Sakumo wanted to hear.

The older jonin sighed. "Talking to you is like digging in sand. Every time you think you get somewhere, more sand just pours in over what you've uncovered and you're no deeper than before."

_I think he just called you shallow,_ Minato told himself, though he wasn't sure. "Thank you," he said humbly, pretending it was a compliment.

"But I ask because the Hokage has tasked me with a new mission," said Sakumo. "I thought you'd be interested."

"Well, considering how our last mission turned out, do you think that's wise?" Minato wondered, moving to one of the benches to pick up a towel and his discarded jacket.

"We wouldn't be working together," Sakumo told him.

"That's all I needed to hear. Sign me up right away." Minato flashed him a cheeky smile and noticed how Sakumo's eyes rolled faintly upwards.

"You're getting to be more like Kushina all the time. I was hoping she would be a good influence, but typically you're only acquiring her mischievous side. Are you interested or not?"

"I suppose it depends on what it is you're offering."

"There's an opening for a commander at the main outpost near the Kumo border. The last commander met with some... unpleasantness, and with tensions escalating the Hokage wants to send a man out there not just to train the chunin but to keep them safe and diffuse problems before they start. The Kumo nin have started accusing us of kidnapping some of their people and they're itching for a fight. I think you have what the outpost needs, and I think you'll benefit from the experience."

Minato chewed his cheek thoughtfully. "This isn't a short-term mission is it?"

"It's a job," Sakumo agreed. "You're moving up from jonin to commanding one of our most vital outposts. It's as good as a promotion."

"What about mentoring Kakashi?"

"Kakashi can wait. He may be a genin, but he still has many years to go before he completes his academy education."

He really should be leaping at the chance, and for a moment he couldn't understand why he wasn't. Then he remembered.

_I don't want to leave Kushina._

While he meditated on this he was deaf to the sounds of sparring behind him, including the disbelieving curses of one Yamanaka Inoichi as a chunin novice several years his junior jabbed him repeatedly in soft places. Sakumo folded his arms and drummed his fingers with mild impatience. "I could have offered this to anyone and they would have hugged me by now in tears of joy."

Sakumo didn't really want him to do that, did he? Pushing back his sentimentality over Kushina, he tried to come up with a more rational excuse. "I might be too young. A lot of chunin are older than I am and have more experience out there... it could compromise my authority."

"How do you get experience without putting yourself out there?" Sakumo responded. "I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't think you were the best suited."

"I'm honoured, but I'll have to think about it." Minato said with finality. He wouldn't commit himself to anything just yet before speaking to Kushina. "If you want me to cry and hug you, though, I'll be more than happy to-"

"That's all the sand I care to dig through today, thank you," Sakumo interrupted, and started as if to leave before suddenly stopping and turning back to him, stepping closer than Minato thought was polite or appropriate. "One more thing..."

"Yes?" Minato asked uncertainly.

"If you hurt her," Sakumo said, each word dropping with an icy clang. "I will make your life so utterly unbearable that you would rather move away and become a pig farmer than remain a shinobi in _my_ village. Is that understood?"

Ohdeargod, _he knew!_

"Yes, sir," Minato said, ashamed of the squeak that crept into his voice.

"And just so you know these aren't empty threats... did you know that Yellow Flash is a popular euphemism for urination?"

"N-No. Is it?"

"No. But it would become one, if you cross her."

Did the man have no depths to which he would not sink? Minato gathered himself together admirably. "I would never hurt Kushina. Intentionally. Sir."

"I would hope not. Get back to me with your decision soon. The Hokage wants to fill the position by the end of the week at the latest."

With that, Sakumo turned smoothly and left the training hall. All Minato could hear was his blood pounding in his ears, almost drowning out Inoichi's yelps in the background.

Why was he suddenly getting the same feeling he had when Danzou had tried to send him off on a suicide mission? Sakumo probably didn't want him dead, but was it really a coincidence that the same time he'd learnt of Minato's relationship with his student, he suddenly found a wonderful position for Minato _on the other side of the country_?

Even if that was the ulterior motive, Minato couldn't deny that the opportunity was a truly tempting one. A couple of years ago, when he'd been restless and ill at ease in the village, he would have been jumping for joy at the chance to go back into the thick of it at the border, and he may very well have been crying and hugging Sakumo for the offer.

Now he had Kushina... and that appeared to be the only reason he had to be reluctant. Was that wise. Normally he would be the first to say putting your relationship before your career was a bad idea, but that was back when he'd been thinking of Kushina's relationship to Ren. His own was a different matter.

There had to be a compromise. _It would be awesome if she came with me..._

He needed to talk it over with her, so he resolved to head right back home after his shower. She'd gotten back from her mission last night, and while Minato always liked to hit the training yard after his assignments, Kushina always spent the day after a mission loafing about the house like a lazy ferret, nibbling her way through all the snacks in the kitchen until she'd restored her sugar levels enough to consider taking on the next mission. He always thought she should train more than she did, but she never appeared to suffer for it. She was the kind of person who could eat nothing but rubbish and still remain as fit as ever.

Minato, however, had to watch himself. Now that Kushina had figured out how much he liked her cooking she was doing it more often, which was either an attempt to please him or fatten him up for Christmas. Trips to the training hall had stopped being about blowing off steam and more about necessity. He didn't think the Kumo border outpost would take too kindly to his command if he had to be rolled in through the gates.

"Kushina? You home?" he called when he arrived. When no one responded, he mooched into the kitchen, his stomach already grumbling at the thought of food. A packet of instant ramen waited for him on the table. It may not have been as good as the ramen Kushina made from scratch, but it would fill a hole. While he boiled the kettle he continued to shout into the house. "What you been up to? You should really come to the training hall with me sometimes. I think you'd like it. All that sweating... and grunting... and bodily contact..."

He heard her footsteps thundering down the stairs like a small elephant, and turned, ready to catch her as she happily fell into his arms crying, "My Darling!" or something.

Instead Kushina swooped right past him and dumped a mound of books onto the kitchen table so suddenly the legs wobbled precariously. When she turned and faced him, her expression told him there would be no canoodling today.

"What's that?" he asked, looking apprehensively at the books.

"I was hoping _you_ could tell _me,_" she retorted sharply.

He didn't need to look too closely to see what titles they were. '_Whirlpool; Rise and Fall of a Nation', _and_ 'The Fathers of Whirlpool' _or_ 'Eddies in time, History of the Whirlpool Village'._ She'd evidently found his research project. "You went through my room?" he asked accusingly.

"We're ninja! You go through my room all the time, so don't avoid the question," she said. "What is this about?"

"I was curious about Whirlpool." He shrugged at her, hoping that sounded reasonable enough. It was mostly true anyway.

She wasn't falling for it, judging by the way her eyes narrowed on him. "Really? Anything in particular that stoked your curiosity?"

She picked one of the books open and rather treacherously it fell open on one of the dog-eared pages he'd marked out. A black and white picture of the third leader of Whirlpool stared back at him like an older and milder male version of Kushina. The resemblance was quite uncanny when they were next to each other like that... or it would be if she didn't look quite so angry.

"What's the problem?" he asked evasively. "This is all in the public domain. People check these books out all the time, how come you get mad when I read them?"

"Because this is my father!" she barked. "If you had questions, why wouldn't you ask _me_ instead of running to some dry old books written by people who weren't even there!"

She couldn't have spent the last few days studiously ignoring all his attempts – subtle and unsubtle - to learn about what had happened to her, and then genuinely wonder why he hadn't bothered asking her this. With a forced sigh he gasped, "_Fine."_ And since he already knew pretty much all there was to know about her father by now, there was only one question left he wanted an answer to. "Why do you hate your father?"

Kushina went white. "My father was a great man!"

"That's not what those books say," he pointed out. "And look who's avoiding the question now."

"Those books don't know anything – that's why you shouldn't be reading such garbage."

"They all seem to agree that he was the one who led the village to ruin-"

"Yes, they all agree, but it's only thanks to him that they're alive to complain! The whole village would have been wiped out in the disaster that killed the Second if not for my father, and they all have the nerve to whine because he couldn't save them from themselves!"

"Then if you're so proud of him," argued Minato, "why do you never talk about him?"

"Why do you never talk about your parents?" she shot back.

"I don't know my parents! I learnt everything I know about my mother from a bingo book – and if I ever figure out who my father is or where I can find him, I'll tell you about him some time. But this _isn't_ about me. You told me your father destroyed everything, and if it wasn't the village he destroyed, what was it?"

"You must have misheard me," she said quietly.

"It has something to do with you, doesn't it?"

Kushina said nothing. The kettle clicked off and rattled with the pressure of boiling water, but neither of them attended. Minato moved through the steam and took her hand to steer into one of the kitchen chairs. She didn't put up a fight, but she certainly refused to look at him. "You left the village and the Hokage declared a state of emergency, blaming it on your condition. I've been wondering ever since what the hell kind of condition could scare the most powerful man in the country to such an action, and I think I've been pretty patient. But you can't honestly expect me forget about it..."

"Why can't you?" she asked, a little petulantly. The grumpy, muddy child she'd been was starting to peek through. "You forget loads of things. You always forget to feed The Bloody Habanero."

"The bloody what?" he repeated faintly.

"The guinea pig! See, you even forgot her name!"

He sighed in contrition. "Guinea pigs aside," he said, soldiering on bravely, "I was hoping that you would at least trust me enough to tell me the truth."

"It's not a big deal," she protested quietly. "The Hokage overreacted."

"If that's the case... just tell me."

"Will you stop worrying about it if I do?"

There was something to be said for the virtue of pestering. Minato could see the thick icy wall she'd constructed around herself since disappearing off to Whirlpool showed its first crack with her last plea. Days of carefully navigated silence began to fall away and Kushina suddenly looked more tired than he'd ever seen her, especially when he nodded his enthusiastic agreement to her terms. For a second she looked ready to retreat again, shaking her head as if brushing off a momentary lapse of weakness. Then just as quickly, she caved once more.

"You know how my village was mostly eminent for our sealing techniques? Well there isn't a continent or a country or a city, town, or village that could equal us. So when I say that my father had the best sealing techniques in the village, you know it actually means he had the best in the world. He was like you, I guess. A completely insufferable genius."

She couldn't have minded insufferable geniuses too much or they wouldn't be holding hands right now. Minato smiled and remained quiet. He didn't dare interrupt her.

"I guess if those sealing techniques fell into the wrong hands, it would be a disaster. That was partly what the war was over, you know. My father's sealing techniques saved the village from a disaster that would have sunk the island into the sea, and once they saw that power, the Reformists wanted it. Or more likely they were scared of it. The village tore itself apart because of what my father had, so why wouldn't the Hokage fear the same thing happening here?"

"But why would it happen here?" Minato prompted. "Your father died a long time ago, right? I've never heard anything about such powerful techniques so I doubt they survived."

Kushina took a deep breath. "They survive as long as I survive," she said, and her fingers began to fumble with the fastener of her blue tunic, popping the buttons open one by one.

This had to be some kind of distraction technique, because this really wasn't the time or place to take this step in their relationship. Minato nearly tried to stop her, but some very neglected voice of his masculinity told him to wait and see where she was going with this.

The tunic slipped down the back of the seat, and her long-sleeved black shirt followed, leaving her in only her sports bra, which was truly earning it's every stitch for how hard it worked in compressing Kushina's infamously bountiful assets that had once inspired so much bullying.

"Do you see now?" she asked him.

"Yes." He smiled.

Kushina snapped her fingers in front of his face, breaking his line of sight with her breasts. "Pay attention, Minato."

Dragging his gaze away, he finally noticed what it was that had prompted her to remove her top - what she was trying to show him. Now he wondered how he could have missed it, even for a second.

On her stomach were the markings of what could only be a seal. The spiral could only be whirlpool in origin, but even though it was foreign to him, he could see how incredibly complex and intricate it was. Each marked out character, and there had to be about eight, was layer upon layer of protection, representing the fortitude of each element.

Minato had never seen anything like it. Literally. As he reached out to brush his fingers across her marked skin, he said, "I've definitely seen your stomach before, but I've never seen _that_ before."

She jumped a little at his touch as if ticklish. "It only appears if I let my chakra interact with it."

"I can't believe it... I thought you were joking when you said you could seal things In people." He got down on his knees and held her waist as he examined her closely. Professional admiration for such quality sealing work had taken over, but only now did Kushina start to blush as he stared intently at her. "What's behind the seal?"

She took a moment to answer, and when she did her voice was oddly flat. "I told you; my father's work. All his knowledge."

He leaned back to look her in the eye. If this seal was an example of his work, Minato could understand how it might be so highly sought after. Even he was a little tempted to get his hands on it. "Can you release it?" he asked.

"No," she said shortly. "Nor can anyone else, so don't bother asking."

Puzzling, he thought, watching her jam her clothes back on as the seal faded. Why would a man go to such pains to seal his techniques into his daughter, presumably for posterity, and leave no means for her or anyone else to recover them? If his knowledge would die with her, what was the point in sealing the knowledge to begin with?

Unless he hadn't planned on dying and he had been using her crassly as some kind of safety deposit box with legs that he could open later at his leisure. But what if this was his legacy to his daughter, and somehow somewhere he really had intended her to have the means to open this seal one day? "Maybe he left you some kind of key and you don't even realize it?" he suggested. "It doesn't make sense to seal the techniques in you if he intended for them to perish-"

"You don't understand. This seal can't be broken and it shouldn't _ever_ be." Kushina's voice cracked with a sudden flare of emotion. "I'm no one's legacy, I'm just a freak. If this seal was undone there's no telling how many people would be hurt and killed, and I'd be responsible."

"You're not a freak," he said firmly. "It would take a lot more than a funny seal to convince me otherwise."

She didn't look too consoled by the thought. "You can't tell anyone about this."

Minato mimed zipping his lips shut. "Though I don't know why you thought this would change the way I feel about you." And did Ren really freak out over some dead techniques being locked inside his girlfriend? Aside from the slight cosmetic issue, it wasn't anything that could have tangentially interfered in their relationship. Even if Ren's loss was Minato's gain, he struggled to believe someone as mature and mannered as the Hokage's nephew would have had such trouble coming to terms with something as trivial as this.

Kushina was almost shaky with relief as she reached out and hugged him. It was obvious she had been incredibly worried about his reaction, and though plenty still didn't add up (and he wondered if there was something else she was holding back from him) he didn't have the heart to keep interrogating her. He'd learnt more than he'd expected to, and for now that was enough.

Later, he could check out a few books on Whirlpool's sealing techniques.

Pulling back until only her hands remained resting on his shoulders, Kushina smiled at him. "I forget how great you are sometimes," she confided. "I'm really going to miss you when you go."

Minato frowned. "Go where?"

She looked equally confused. "Haven't you seen Sensei today? He said there was a commanding position at an outpost that he was going to offer you."

"Oh," he said. "That."

"Also, I think he kinda figured out that we were together."

"_Really?_" Minato exclaimed softly. "He didn't let on at all."

"So what do you think of the position? It seems perfect for you."

She seemed much too pleased at the thought of them separating indefinitely. "It's very far away," he said uncertainly.

"Maybe, but sensei says the climate is quite nice over there."

Blatant lies. The mountainous border was freezing and the air was thin. If you tripped and fell into a chasm that would be the last anyone saw of you, and that was if you didn't drop dead from the altitudes.

No wonder Sakumo was so keen for him to go.

"No," he said to Kushina, "I mean... we won't be able to see each other as much."

"True, but-"

"You don't seem that upset."

"Of course not!" she ground out. "I'm trying to be happy for you because this is a once in a lifetime kind of opportunity and I don't want to be the kind of girl who holds her guy back from his dreams because she's too needy."

"My dreams?" he echoed, astonished.

"You're going to be Hokage one day, aren't you?" she reminded, smiling gently. "You told me that you would help me with my dreams by rebuilding my village brick by brick if I asked, so here I am, helping you with yours. Go to the outpost, Minato. Prove to everyone that you can be a leader."

This was honestly not what he'd been expecting. Her support may have been steely but her smile was a little too fake. Maybe she was just as reluctant to see him leave the village so soon as he was, though she was doing a better job of mastering her emotions. A heavy feeling came over his heart, like a real physical force threatening to drag his spirit down through the floor. "Can't you come with me?" he asked - pleaded really.

"I have my own missions," she reminded. "Besides," she added, with false airiness, "it'll be nice to have the house to myself for a change."

Minato was mortified. This job was threatening to take him away from the one and only person he had ever loved, and she wasn't going to stop him. The blissful days they'd spent together, laughing and kissing and holding each other on the sofa when they watched zombie movies was going to end. Surely this was too soon for their fragile fledgling of a relationship! They hadn't even made out properly yet!

"I'll go see Sakumo-sensei tomorrow," he said, like a man speaking of making his appointment with the gallows. "You're right. It's stupid to let the opportunity slip by just because it'll doom me to loneliness and despair."

Kushina giggled. She must have thought he was joking. "We'll still see each other when you get leave," she told him, running her hands affectionately through his hair. "And we'll write."

"You're planning on replacing me, aren't you?" he guessed glumly. "And you'll turn my room into a great big guinea pig hutch."

"I'm more likely to turn it into your shrine," she rebuked.

When that failed to cheer him up, she kissed his cheek. "Don't be sad."

Which was far easier to say than obey.

* * *

It was an opportunity that he would have been mad to pass up, and Kushina was forceful in her support. She had decided not to stand in the way of his success, and she took this to the point of pushing him out the door. Plus, she said, the position was a limited time offer, whereas she would always be there for as long as he wanted or needed her.

That still didn't make his departure any easier. After informing Sakumo that he would be happy to accept the position, he was scheduled to leave in the company of two guides who knew the way to the remote outpost hidden in the mountains. Their wisdom and directional sense was beyond reproach... except for the one whose name was Yamanaka Inoichi. The trip would take a few days, or so they told him, and on the morning he was due to leave he made sure to pack all his supplies. All the necessary stuff was there - the water flask, the dried food rations, the weapons, the scrolls, and the double-lined thermal vest for those cold mountain nights. The one thing he didn't have and couldn't find, and needed so urgently that when he realised it's absence he began to tear his room apart to find it, was the silly little Whirlpool charm that Kushina had given him more than five years ago.

"Where is it?" he demanded of no one specifically as he threw his socks across the room to get to the bottom of his drawers. "I know I had it here somewhere! How could I have lost it? I _never_ lose it!"

"Lost what? Your marbles?" Kushina asked, poking her head through his bedroom door. Frantic searching and packing be fire a mission was usually her area so she was enjoying the rare sight of him imitating a headless chicken.

But he couldn't tell her what he was looking for. He knew for sure that she'd either laugh at him or roll her eyes and tell him to get over the little plastic medallion that had long since seen better days. She probably wouldn't remember making it or giving it to him anyway. So, with time growing short, he reluctantly abandoned his search. Minato wasn't a superstitious man, but he was quite certain that this did not bode well for his assignment. After losing Kushina's charm it could only go downhill from there.

Word got out that the Yellow Flash was leaving, naturally. What he thought would be a quiet send off at the gates between himself and Kushina turned into more of a spectacle than he'd anticipated. Jiraiya was there, of course, waiting to clap him on the shoulder and remind him to stay on his toes and if he was ever in doubt about what to do he should "think what your old sensei would do and you will obtain perfection." With a pang in his chest, Minato realised the last time he'd left the village, it was his separation from his sensei that had cut him the most. Now, he realised, his old dependency had ended. He wasn't a child anymore, though he'd still miss him as an adult.

His old teammates were there too. Saburou nodded to him in grave silence, whereas Ai winked and enveloped him in a hug that went on a little too long to be polite. Which was most likely her intention. If Kushina's carefully maintained smile disappeared at that point, only Minato and her sensei noticed, the latter of whom patted her back consolingly.

Shikaku and Chouza may have been there to see their own teammate off, but they were part of the crowd wishing him well along with some of his regular subordinates and casual acquaintances, and the Hyuuga girl who he'd only met once. Dimly he wondered if they'd been misinformed that this was some kind of party going on by the gates. He found it hard to fathom that all those people were there just to see him off. He understood his popularity some times. Other times, he really didn't.

"We should get going before it gets dark," reminded Inoichi, who was just as baffled as Minato.

Pulling away from the group of chunin girls who tended to follow him around the village (though he hadn't figured this out yet, and wasn't always the same group every time) he found himself face to face with Kushina again.

"Before you go," she said, more nervously than he was used to, "I thought you might like this."

From the pouch on her hip she drew her gift and pressed it into his hand so it was for his eyes only. Minato recognised it once, even though the broken leather thong had been replaced by a more durable nylon loop with a proper fastener. The little plastic disk was the same, scratched up to hell, but the glue that formed the Whirlpool symbol was as good as indestructible.

"When...?" he muttered, unable to articulate more than that.

"Sorry I went through your room to get it," she said. "But I figured it needed an upgrade. I hope you don't mind."

Minato stared at her, lost for words. There had to be some arrangement in his vocabulary that would accurately convey just how astonished, grateful and damn happy he was at her gesture, but language escaped him. All he could give her was a wobbly smile.

"Good god!" Inoichi moaned. "Either kiss her or get moving!"

That was actually a very good idea.

So regardless of the promise he'd made to Kushina, and that there was a swarm of witnesses nearby, and that he was condemning her to be hated and detested by most of his present stalkers, as well as sumitting himself to the murderous glare of Hatake Sakumo, Minato stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her like it would be their last.

It was hard to say who was more shocked - the crowd or Kushina. Kushina at least recovered first, perhaps agreeing that it was time to break their silence at last as her stiffness faded and she held him close to her just as earnestly. He might have heard an appreciative, "_Nice!_" from his sensei and a more dismayed, "_Damn!_" from Inoichi. He didn't really care what anyone else thought, or how many of them were plotting her death. He knew what the village thought of this upstart, loud-mouthed redhead, and knew many of the gazes levelled at them would be disapproving, but none of them could now deny that he loved her. For many it was merely confirmation of a very old suspicion.

Embracing her had not made it easier to part ways. He broke the kiss to squeeze her tight, kissing her cheek once, then twice, as he whispered the fervent promise that he would be back at the first opportunity. When he eased away from her he still found himself astonished at the expression on her face, to see everything he felt mirrored back at him like he was looking at the other half of himself. To love and be loved. It didn't just make him feel alive; it made him immortal.

"I'll see you soon," he told her.

"I know." She nodded and smiled. "Take care."

It would be over two years before he came home again.

Although it was only three weeks before his first of many opportunities for 'leave'.

* * *

TBC


	20. Capture, part I

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twenty: Capture, part I

* * *

_June __25th_

Dear Kushina,

Thank you for the package of oshizushi. A few even survived the handling of my subordinates to get to me. I'll be lining them up later to check for sticky fingers and punishing accordingly. (Any suggestions?)

How are things? Not much has changed here. Apparently it's summer but you couldn't say for sure. The roof of my cabin is still leaking snow in, though one of the new recruits offered to fix it by lying across the gap in the roof at night. Not sure he was joking.

My next leave is in four weeks, from the 29thth to the 3rd. Want to do anything special?

Love, Minato

* * *

_June __28th_

Minato,

You're always complaining about the cold, so I'm enclosing a scarf for you. Since it's summer you might as well have one of mine while I'm not using it. And don't punish your guys too harshly. From how you describe the food up there, I don't blame them for filching yours. Commanders should share with their less fortunate subordinates, right?

Things are ok here. I gave the Bloody Habanero back to Yoshi because I think she's been too lonely without the Yellow Flasher. I'd have given her to Kakashi, but Sakumo-sensei's down on pets. He keeps going on about Kakashi's allergies. Fair point. That kid does wheeze a lot around animals.

Everything else is fine. I had a mission with Ren and it's still really awkward. I was hoping we could still be friends but it's harder than I thought. But so far so good, no death threats. Your friend Ai has started to ignore me completely these days, so that's an improvement at least.

If you can manage it, can you be back on the 27th? That's when the big summer festival is being held. You can win me some goldfish to replace Habanero and the Flasher

Lots of love, Kushina xxx

* * *

_July 1__st_

Dear Kushina,

Thank you for the scarf. It smells like you and I've received many compliments about how well it matches my eyes. Herein I enclose a token of my own affection.

Might be able to make the 27th. Depends on when my temp substitute gets here. I'll get back to you on that.

Love, hugs and kisses, Minato

ps. No goldfish for you. I was banned from those stalls when I was ten of account of cleaning them out too many times.

* * *

_July 3__rd_

Minato,

Please stop sending me your underwear.

Love, Kushina.

* * *

_July 4__th_

Dear dearest Kushina,

Send me a pair of yours and then we'll be even. If not, please return the pair I sent you. It's been draftier than I thought it would be without them.

Signed, Minato

ps. I saw this flower and it made me think of you. Enjoy.

* * *

_July 8__th_

Minato,

Find pants enclosed. Thank you for the pressed snowdrop, but what about it reminded you of me?

Hugs and kisses, Kushina

* * *

_July 11__th_

Dear Kushina,

I saw the snowdrop and thought about sending it to you, that's all really. There's no other flowers up here. In retrospect there's no reason it should have reminded me of you. It's white, you're red. It smells like a crushed weed, you smell like roses. Also, it's a plant and you're a person. I guess you both like cold weather though.

Temp sub says he can make 27th. I can be there for the festival. If I go in disguise maybe I can win you some fish after all.

Love, Minato

ps. These are not the pants I originally sent you. I don't wear briefs.

* * *

_July 15th_

Minato,

I'm looking forward to seeing you again. I was worried I'd have to end up going alone. Mikoto and Fugu-face invited me to go with them but as a couple they just make me gag. I'd rather be with you making _other _people gag.

And maybe we can go out for dinner some time? Seems like something proper couples do too. Although tbh just having you around is good enough. I miss hanging out with you. Sometimes I just really miss your arms.

Love Kushina,

ps. Of course they're not your pants. They're mine.

* * *

_July 17__th_

Dear Jiraiya-sensei,

Is it normal for girls to wear briefs?

Just wondering.

Sincerely, Minato

ps. Receiving presents off emissaries from Kumo outpost. Is that normal too?

* * *

_July 19__th_

Minato, my dear boy, ask not what is normal where Uzumaki Kushina is concerned. I have it under good authority that she gave one of her squad leaders a flea in the ear over his treatment of an informant and was suspended for three weeks without pay for insubordination. Sakumo is practically gloating with pride over it. Nothing she does surprises me anymore. Although feel free to tell me more!

Receiving presents from the enemy is odd. I'm guessing the emissary is either female or that-way-inclined.

Jiraiya X

* * *

_July 2__3__rd_

Minato,

Do you have anything to wear to the festival? I can get you a yukata (if you pay me back later). Something in lavender? You're still the same size right?

Still totally stoked you're coming. Can't wait to see you on Saturday.

Loads of love, Kushina

* * *

_July 26__th_

Minato,

I've not heard back from you about the yukata. I got you one anyway. Your substitute should have turned up by now. Are you still coming?

Kushina

* * *

_July 2__6__th_

Dear SIR/MADAM,

It is my painful duty to inform you that a report has this day been received from Administration Office that CMD. NAMIKAZE MINATO became missing in action on JULY 22ND.

Should any information be received it will be communicated in due course to the next-of-kin. I am to express the sympathy of the council with the shinobi's relatives in their anxiety.

Humbly yours,

_Souma__ Naota, Records Office_

* * *

_July __27__th_

Dear Souma,

That's a fine excuse. When he turns up, tell him he still owes me for a yukata and a ruined date_._

Uzumaki Kushina.

* * *

_July __22__nd_

Minato leant back in his chair and stretched his cramped arms above his head, straightening out the crinkles in his spine that had accumulated after two hours of keeping up with his correspondence. If it wasn't the administration office demanding daily updates about what was going on – to which Minato could only reply "still nothing" – it was the commander from the undermanned Mist border outpost demanding Minato send some chunin his way like they were some sort of chattel. This was the man who had been appointed by Danzou after the last war, and Minato was inclined to keep gently rebutting his letters, deferring to the will of his chunin and the wisdom of the administration office in deciding where to concentrate their forces. He usually got some pretty scathing responses alluding to his age, appearance and how far his balls had dropped yet. Minato pinned these to the wall behind him in pride of place next to the letters and pictures Kushina regularly sent.

In two years, this was the only personalisation he'd made to his cabin when he'd inherited it off the former commander. There were some rugs nailed to the walls to insulate the room against the cold, but those had been there when Minato arrived. It wasn't that his tastes were spartan, but after surviving three years on the Mist front looking on at a commander who surrounded himself with opulent furnishings and exotic artefacts of home, Minato found that kind of excessive abuse of privileges lewd when every man beneath him was sleeping ten to a room with as much space for personal touches as the wall beside their bunk would allow.

Nor did he grant his jonin much favours beyond what would normally be granted. In a base of some 100 chunin, there were only three of jonin rank, including himself. Yuuhi, of the strange red eyes, was one of the others, fifteen years his senior but thankfully not bitter about serving under a younger commander. Gekko, the third, was one year Minato's junior and only recently promoted, a possible hypochondriac, or else extremely unlucky to be the one person on the base with chronic altitude sickness.

Gekko was the first to come to his cabin that morning, carrying a scroll that must have been delivered by bird a few minutes beforehand. She looked grey and sickly. To say she resembled a zombie would have been flattering. "How's it going, Gekko?" Minato asked, accepting the newest scroll.

"Oh, well, not bad," she sighed. "The ringing in the ears isn't quite as loud anymore, but the insomnia's pretty bad. Haven't slept in three days. Or four. I can't remember."

"Great," Minato murmured, not really listening. "While you're here, can you take these to Yuuhi? He's taking Eagle group for reconnaisance down in the vale."

Gekko sniffed. "But Kumo hold that ground."

"Illegally. I want to see how happy the locals are about it. " Minato gave her a measured look. "Why don't you go with them? You might benefit from the lower altitude."

"Oh, that would be nice," she said wistfully and shuffled out. Almost immediately she shuffled back in again. "I think I see the Emissary from the Kumo outpost is here again."

He scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. "Twice in a week. That's a record." Then he straightened and began to put the documents with sensitive information out of sight. "Send her in."

The emissary was the second in command of the Kumo outpost on the other side of the border. Aside from a tiny goat-herding village some miles to the south, it was the only other sign of civilisation on these mountains. The friction that sparked between Konoha and Kumo along the rest of the border cooled here, as the petty political squabbles at the heart of the countries didn't have much impact in the mountains. The outpost on the Kumo border were the closest thing the Konoha outpost had to neighbours – in the sense they were both naturally suspicious of one another and frequently poked their noses over the proverbial fence into each other's business. But up front the two bases interacted freely.

In fact, on her last visit the emissary had brought him Kumo tailored gloves after he'd complained about the cold to her a few weeks ago. And while Kumo was known for its inferior weapon design and shoddy military tactics, no one could complain that they didn't know how to make a decent pair of gloves.

A tall black woman entered and fixed her amber eyes on Minato in a way that reminded him far too much of Ai – almost friendly, but mostly condescending. Her smile said she liked what she saw but she would only be too happy to twist a knife in his back if he turned around long enough. "I hope you're keeping well," said the emissary as she and her personal guard came forward. Meetings were never conducted alone. Gekko took her place to the left of Minato's chair while the emissary's guard took a similar position, and they proceeded to eye each other belligerently. "And keeping warm of course," she added.

"Thanks to you, Kay-san." Minato gestured for her to sit.

"Well, I was just beginning to get used to you so it would be a shame if you went down with pneumonia. Although I hear you'll be leaving us soon anyway. That's a pity."

How did they find these things out, he wondered? Knowing full well she was simply demonstrating the power of her intelligence division, he chose not to react. It wasn't exactly top secret material to begin with. "Yes, I'll be returning to Konoha permanently in a few months. Then you'll have to break in a new commander, I'm afraid."

"Pity," she repeated, smiling like 'pity' was furthest from her mind. "I suppose your Hokage wants to keep someone like you close to the action, and god knows there's certainly none out here. Although if you like I can tell my commander to launch an all-out assault against your outpost. Maybe then your boss will think twice about sending you away."

"You're so kind to offer," he said. "But I'm actually quite happy to be retired early. You can have too much fresh air."

"You must have a sweetheart at home," she deduced. "What else could drag you away from this riveting frontline of defence?"

"What else?" he agreed.

"You lasted longer than your predecessor," Kay-san noted. "I never liked that guy. Jumpy. _Rude._ Always blaming us for every avalanche and rockslide or whatever else that went wrong. I wasn't impressed when they said he'd been replaced by a nineteen year old boy whose hairs hadn't even grown in yet, but I stand corrected. You've been a surprisingly enjoyable adversary."

Minato smiled slightly. "I don't think you came here to pay me compliments," he said, "although they're very welcome."

"Well, no," she snorted. "I don't take trips across the treacherous chasms just to pop in for tea and biscuits. And since you asked, yes, I would love a cup of tea." The last she said to Gekko.

His subordinate had always resented the hell out of being told to fetch tea, and after a stiff pause she turned and went to the cupboard where the basic tea makings were kept for Minato's own personal use - and since Minato preferred soda to tea, they were rather dusty. As she poured the boiling water, she made sure to issue a few phlegmy coughs before handing it to Kay-san who took it graciously. Only after her first sip, and a grimace over its weak flavour, did she proceed onto business.

"Kumo wishes to meet with you, Minato-kun," she said simply, blowing on the steam. "As soon as possible at that. A very important man has come all the way from Kumo to speak to you."

Which begged the question, "Why?"

The emissary shrugged emphatically. "Why should I know? Me, a mere vice commander of an outpost of little strategic value, am not privy to the whims of the Kumo elite. Although I imagine it has something to do with the fact your Hokage refuses to answer to the allegations of kidnap. You have a reputation for being reasonable rather than pig-headed, and you obviously have the ear of your leader. It's not so unusual that Kumo would attempt to correspond through you."

"Which would be a slap in the face to the Hokage, if that's the case," he observed. "So that would seem counterproductive on your end."

"Minato-kun, come on," she said, giving him a look that was supposed to inspire trust but in fact did the opposite. "You know how desperate the headboys are getting over this abduction business. We've lost thirty people, nine of them newborn babies snatched from their very cradles and all evidence points to Konoha. We're not the only ones either. Our intelligence division reports abductions from at least two other villages who are also pointing the finger at Konoha. It is every shinobi's duty to defend their village, but don't you think your leaders go too far?"

"This is slander!" Gekko exploded. "Lies and propaganda from the village that's been kidnapping children of other clans for decades!"

"Gekko," Minato cautioned mildly, and with an angry cough she pressed her lips together valiantly.

Unruffled, Kay-san spread her hands innocently. "Kumo may have taken a little morsel from time to time. We rescue them from poverty and miserable fates, treat them well, and they are welcomed into our village as one of us." She said. It would have been a lovely tale, if true. One of the initial catalysts of the second world war was the abduction of a couple of perfectly happy children from their powerful families, but who knew what the Kumo village leaders told their people. "_Never_ have I heard of such widespread indiscriminate body snatching. We know the people being taken are taken to be slaughtered, butchered and their secrets stolen, so don't act like there is a moral equivalency here. Your village is committing crimes against humanity and the world will not stand for it much longer!"

Gekko gasped, raring to give an angry retort, but while Minato remained blankly calm in the face of such accusations she had to hold herself still.

"You say newborns are taken?" he asked. "And there is evidence they're being taken for experimentation?"

Kay-san folded her arms triumphantly. "See, you _do_ know things about it. I'm tired of Konoha feigning ignorance."

"Because the same thing was happening in Konoha a few years ago." Minato lapsed into a thoughtful silence. The Hokage was maintaining a wall of silence on the matter, hiding the fact that such an incredible breach in safety and security had been allowed to continue for so long. But if there was a possibility that the other villages were moving to unite against Konoha under the mistaken belief that his village was responsible, how could they maintain that silence out of pride?

While the Hokage's inferred orders were of utmost secrecy, as a commander a few things were up to his discretion. Diffusing the start of the third world war was one of them.

"Your leaders turned on your own people too?" Kay-san asked suspiciously.

"I doubt Konoha's leaders are responsible," Minato said evenly. He thought of the Hokage, who would rather go to painful lengths to shoo a bumblebee out of his window than swat it dead, and couldn't see him sanctioning such a needlessly cruel experiment on his own people. Even the darker figures behind the seat of power, like Danzou, weren't really capable of such things. Danzou obviously wasn't above discreetly trying to get rid of those in his way, but he was the shadiest character in Konoha's regime and he would probably be the first in line to be outraged about Konoha's people being abducted and killed.

"I've never heard any of this before," Gekko said quietly, with a subtle hint in her tone that this was sensitive information that if she should not be hearing, the emissary from Kumo _definitely_ shouldn't be hearing it either.

"Konoha conducted an investigation into it some years ago," he explained, leaving out his own involvement. "It was found to most likely be the work of one rogue figure, or a very small group. The investigation was concluded with the death of the main suspect and as far as I know, there have been no further cases of abduction in Konoha."

"That's very interesting, but it seems your investigation was flawed," said Kay-san. "If this is the same culprit he has merely moved on to collecting people from other villages to avoid alerting your authorities again. In which case we still have a problem. Your village is harbouring a mass murderer targeting other villages, and you have done nothing to stop him. You are abetting him."

"Harsh," Minato frowned. "But I suppose the anger is understandable. The people at the top always brush off such incredible allegations as sabre-rattling prior to the war. Perhaps it needs to be looked into."

"So you will meet with our captain?" Kay-san demanded.

He laughed. "No."

She shot him an annoyed look, like she was wishing to take back all the compliments on his maturity. "You're just a frightened little boy, after all."

"Maybe, but I'm not mad," he said. "Let me guess, meeting him would require walking into your base defenceless?"

"Come now," she said coyly. "We have rules and conventions about treating visiting representatives of other villages with care and respect."

"And we're ninja; honour-bound to break the rules we make whenever it's to our advantage," he pointed out.

"Yet I come here all the time, putting my life in your hands."

"No, your commander is putting your life in our hands. You're expendable," he told her bluntly. "He may be willing to take that risk with his subordinates but I won't place myself or anyone in my care in such a risky situation."

"Says you, who allegedly walked into a primary Mist base and slaughtered everyone there including one of the swordsmen." She lowered her eyelids to look at him through her lashes. "What do you have to fear from us?"

Minato could see that tale was getting taller with every retelling. "That was a war. I'm not keen to open up the opportunity for trouble until I have to."

"Then we can arrange a meeting on neutral ground. Give me that map." She snapped her fingers at Gekko who obeyed at the speed of sludge. "Here. This is open ground, low altitude, no forest or rocks to hide behind. You meet with the captain here, and you may bring two of your best, no more or less. Is that satisfactory?"

"I have a good nose, you know," he said, tapping it. "And traps have this distinctive smell."

"Our captain is placing himself in greater danger than you. No one wants to get on the wrong side of the Yellow Flash. Do you think we're stupid enough to try something? This is captain Kusanagi, we're talking about, look him up in the bingo book. He's hardly on par with someone like you."

She was working hard to flatter him. It was disappointing really. They'd gotten along so well, exchanging gifts or rabbit-fur gloves, and now this...

Well, like him, she was a dog to her masters. She had her orders and Minato had, well, he didn't really have any orders. Whatever he decided to do next was up to him.

"Fine," he said eventually. "I'll meet your man in an hour."

"An hour?" she blurted.

"Problem? Or do you need more time to dig the tiger pits?"

She rose swiftly, offended. "An hour it is. Lovely speaking with you again, Minato-kun. Enjoy your retirement, as we may not see each other again."

She swept out of the cabin with her guard and Gekko finally released the sneeze she'd been holding in. "Oh, my sinuses," she moaned.

"You're in for a bit of luck then, Gekko-kun," he told her. "We're going to take a trip down the mountain."

"Eh?" she sniffed. "You're not really going to meet this captain are you? I've heard of Kusanagi. He may not be strong but his strength is as a tactician."

"We'll need to get to the meeting point first to scope it out before they arrive," he said, ignoring her warning. "Get Yuuhi. You'll do for two of my best."

"This is bad," Gekko muttered as she stalked out. "Bad, bad, bad, but oh it will be nice to be able to breathe oxygen again..." Until her voice faded into the ambience of the base.

* * *

"They're coming, commander."

Yuuhi passed him the binoculars, and from the safe cover of the forest edge, Minato looked on at the two men arriving on the other side of the wide open fell. There indeed was the diminutive figure of captain Kusanagi. Beside him was a gigantically tall man with a mighty scowl on his face.

"Uh oh," Minato mumbled.

"What?" Gekko squinted around the tree to no effect.

"That looks like A to me," he said, passing the binoculars back to Yuuhi for confirmation.

"What's A?" Gekko looked at Yuuhi.

"A is the name of someone I don't wish to tangle with," Yuuhi admitted. "He's tipped to be the next Raikage."

"Is he in the bingo book?" Gekko asked.

"Definitely," Minato sighed.

At the sound of flipping pages the two men turned to look at Gekko in disbelief. "You still carry that thing around with you?" Yuuhi hissed, pointing at her bingo book.

"Yes, and look how useful it is," she said. "Ah, here we are. Right at the beginning of the section on Kumo, of course. A... let's see, let's see... ah. Very strong."

"Well, it's good to see that book wasn't totally a dead weight," Yuuhi said sarcastically. Minato resumed watching the men while his subordinates bickers back and forth over his head.

"It says here that his brother is a jinchuuriki," she went on. "The eight-tails, no less! It says he was the latest in a long line of hosts, previous ones proving to be dangerous and unstable and, oh boy, now you can kinda see why they stayed out of the last war. Their village has been destroyed repeatedly by that thing. You'd think they'd just give up jinchuuriki as more trouble than they're worth but oh no..."

"How is that useful right now?" Yuuhi demanded.

"Maybe we could exploit his sensitivity over his brother?" she suggested.

"Nothing about that guy looks sensitive," Minato said grimly. "Kay tells us about Kusanagi but forgets to mention someone like A? This is definitely a trap. Dammit."

Neither of them had ever heard him swear before, even as mildly as that, and their argument died swiftly. "We should retreat in that case," Yuuhi advised.

Minato groaned. "It's too late. Making a move like this... they're declaring their intentions toward Konoha. If we avoid a confrontation now, we'll just have it later and things will deteriorate from there. And I was _that_ close to retirement. _Dammit._"

"So what do we do?" Gekko asked nervously.

Minato sighed and reached out to pluck the bingo book from her hands and hand her one of his kunai instead. She looked at it in awe. "We're going to proceed," he told them. "But if things go bad, I want you two to get out of there."

Gekko's mouth dropped open. "But-"

"You have to obey," he said shortly. Yuuhi may have looked like he wanted to object to but he had the sense and experience to tell the difference between an order and a suggestion. Once Gekko had subsided and he was sure she understood her responsibility, he stood. "Let's go."

They began their approach across the barren plane, towards the two men waiting for them at the centre. It was a fairly neutral meeting ground, far enough from any cover that had either party hidden reinforcements in the trees or behind the rocks on the slope they would be too far away to act effectively. But why would Kusanagi have needed to hide back-ups when he had the strongest man in Kumo at his side?

"I'm honoured you agreed to see me," said Kusanagi as Minato and his subordinates stopped several metres away, close enough to conduct a conversation without shouting, but not too close they couldn't react to sudden movements. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up." Though Minato could see he was older than the Hokage, this didn't make him any less harmless, and whether if it was his position in the Kumo hierarchy or the devious calculating smile he wore when he laid eyes on Minato, something about him strongly resembled Danzou. He knew at least that this was not a man to be trusted.

"What is it you want?" Minato asked, cutting right to the point.

Kusanagi smirked like he appreciated his straightforwardness. "What we want, and what out Raikage wants, is a prisoner exchange."

"Your emissary led me to believe this was over the accusations of kidnapping," said Minato, looking at the arsenal attached to A's belt. That was quite a lot of specialist tools for a peaceful meeting.

"Kay was not informed as to the nature of this contact," Kusanagi said dismissively. "She was providing her own conjecture at best, though she said you were a reasonable sort of man and would be willing to assist us in this matter."

"I'm just commander of a small outpost of no real stategic importance," Minato told him. "I don't see as how I can be much help to you. I wasn't aware that Konoha holds any member of Kumo prisoner, or of Kumo holding anyone from Konoha."

"Oh, we're not holding anyone," Kusanagi said, his smirk widening to show his worn teeth and pale gums. "Not yet."

Wearily, he nodded. "I think I understand."

"Do you really?" Kusanagi sneered at him. "A. Kill the other two, we won't be needing them."

A moved, faster than a man his size had a right to. Two kunai appeared, flashing through the air towards each of Minato's subordinates, and before either of them reacted Minato through himself forward. He caught one, snatching it out of the air and hurled it to intercept the other. The kunai gave a loud crack as they met in midair, and Yuuhi took a stunned step back as the two weapons flew past his ear.

"Go," Minato called to them. "Now."

Gekko hesitated. "Taichou-!"

Suddenly A was before him, appearing like a crack of thunder with dust billowing around them. One large hand slammed down atop Minato's hand with almost enough force to shatter his spine. "Go!" Minato shouted again, a second before he was smashed face first into the ground.

He didn't hear much over the intense ringing in his ears after that, but enough to understand his situation.

"This is really the Yellow Flash?" he heard A comment. "That was too easy."

"Awfully quick to abandon their commander, weren't they," he heard Kusanagi chortle. "But I suppose Konoha is not known for its bravery."

His hands were tied into fists behind his back and a gag jammed into his mouth. Over his head went a cloth bag that stunk horribly of something sweet and medicinal, and Minato remained conscious only long enough to feel himself being lifted up into the air and laid on someone's strong shoulder before succumbing to the cloying darkness.

* * *

Hours passed in what felt like a suffocating black ocean. Confusing sounds and images blurred across his senses, and every time he came close to breaking the surface the currents snatched him back down again where it was quieter and his thoughts slower. He was tossed relentlessly between unconsciousness and semi-aware, until suddenly an icy shock washed over him and he snapped awake with a gasp.

He was freezing and soaking wet, and for a moment all he could make out were the legs of the nin before him and the dripping bucket dangling in view. The feet retreated and a hard metal door slammed shut, leaving him alone to gather him scattered wits in privacy. Minato inched himself upright, shoulders aching from being tied behind his back, but not nearly as much as his hands. Konoha went to great lengths to stop a prisoner using jutsu by temporarily sealing their chakra points, which allowed moderate freedom of movement without much danger. Kumo, however, was still perfectly willing to sacrifice prisoner comfort for convenience. If you couldn't seal up a prisoner's chakra points, wrapping hands so tightly he couldn't move even a finger worked just as well even if the cramps were inevitable. Minato winced now, but he could tell his bonds would only get more and more painful if they weren't loosened.

His room was small, lined with breeze blocks bearing all kinds of stains and scratches as if there had been many in here before him, and the floor smelt strongly of old urine. He doubted he'd been transported all the way to Kumo, nor did this feel like the Kumo outpost near his own. Judging by the faint throbbing in his skull and how no matter how long he panted he couldn't seem to catch his breath, he was at a far higher altitude than either base. His scouts had identified a few small, hidden bunkers further up in the mountains, so this was most likely where he'd been taken. Chances were this was one they hadn't discovered yet, so the odds of his outpost locating him any time soon was dismal to say the least.

The next time the door opened, Kusanagi stepped in with a glass of water and a pill in his hand. "And how are we today?"

Perhaps the old man wanted him to question his sense of time or something, but Minato was certain only a few hours had passed since he'd been knocked out.

Possibly certain.

Maybe.

"If you think I'm going to take anything you give me," Minato said, eyeing the pill. "Think again."

"It's up to you. It's merely a treatment for altitude sickness, and your symptoms are apparent," said the old bastard cheerfully. "It wouldn't do to have you dropping dead on our hands. Death by fluid accumulation in the muscles and brain is... not very nice."

"If that's going to be a problem for you, why don't we take a trip down to sea level?" Minato suggested.

"I don't think we'll be moving you after this point," said Kusanagi. "Right now Konoha is pouring people into the neutral territory. Seems your Hokage is trying to provoke us."

"Kidnapping and imprisoning one of his jonin was pretty provocative too," Minato responded. "Are you trying to start a war?"

"Konoha already started it by sanctioning the abduction and slaughter of our citizens."

"Ah." _That_ old chestnut.

"Yes. _Ah._" Kusanagi crouched and thrust the pill into Minato's mouth. He forced him to swallow by forcing his head up and pouring the war between his lips, but he needn't have bothered. Minato didn't resist too much, knowing that if Kusanagi had wanted him dead they wouldn't have come to the meeting armed with ropes and gags and everything else from the Handbook of Abduction, short of a great big burlap sack. It may have been a sedative, though Minato couldn't see the point of waking him just to put him back to sleep again, or it may have been some kind of truth serum, though he knew of none that were particularly effective in pill form.

It was most likely exactly what Kusanagi said it was, and as the minutes passed and he grew less light-headed and felt less like the victim of an all night bender, he knew the pill was working. Kusanagi left him alone during that time, returning an uncertain number of hours later to strut up and down the cell, eyeing Minato proudly like he was some kind of trophy. Which, he supposed, was exactly what he was.

"You're nothing like I imagined," he said. "I knew you would be young, but somehow I thought you would be taller. I at least thought you might hold your own against A for more than a few seconds but... alas, that's probably not your fault. It says more about A than it says about you. Here is the man who defeated one of the seven swordsman in his own base... defeated by one of our own in the blink of an eye."

Minato shrugged. "Can't win them all."

"Well, I'm glad to see your ego isn't too badly bruised. Although your face from where it hit the ground... not quite the pretty-boy anymore."

Well there was some good news, at least.

"What is it you want from me?" Minato asked him. "Or is this really just part of a plan to provoke open war?"

Kusanagi resumed pacing in his superior predatory way. "As I said, what we want is a prisoner exchange. It's quite simple."

"Simple, except that we have no Kumo prisoners. You're one-up on us right now."

"Ah, well who said we wanted one of our _own_ back?" Kusanagi asked, leering at him. "We've caught ourselves one of the biggest fish in the sea, but don't be too full of yourself. You're merely bait for an even bigger fish. We've sent out demands to the Hokage... we'll see how he replies."

"I'm just bait? How insulting," Minato murmured. "Who are you hoping they'll give you in exchange for my life?"

"The Hokage would probably give his own son to recover someone like you," Kusanagi chortled. "We could name anyone and he'd hand them over."

Minato had trouble imagining the Hokage handing over even the lowliest street sweeper in exchange for Minato. "But you obviously have someone particular in mind."

"Don't we just?"

Kusanagi stepped forward and plunged his hand inside Minato's vest and into pockets he must have become familiar with while his prisoner was unconscious, because the old man knew exactly which pocket to reach for. Suddenly the photo Minato kept there was on the floor, and the bright-face redhead smiling back at him was at total odds with the grimy canvas Kusanagi had dropped her on.

"Imagine our surprise to find her picture on you. I didn't expect you to even know her name, let alone be her lover. An unexpected development to be sure, but a very welcome one. Lovers are always such noble creatures... if she really loves you, she'll be offering herself to us soon enough."

"Kushina?" Minato demanded loudly. "I'm bait to catch _Kushina?_ What the hell do you-"

He stopped short, his baffled shock only lasting a moment. He kept forgetting his girlfriend wasn't just a hot-headed ex-refugee with poor ninjutsu fundamentals and excellent specialisation in elemental jutsu, adding up to a better than average fighter with magnificent hair. For Kumo to want _that_ girl was nonsensical, but then Kushina was the only girl he knew with a secret big enough to rock whole nations.

For Kumo to be interested in her... they _had_ to know something. But Minato had to tread carefully. If they didn't have the whole picture, he wouldn't be filling in the missing pieces for them.

"What's so interesting about Uzumaki Kushina?" he asked more evenly, watching the photograph. She was intensely camera shy so it had taken a while to get his hands on this one, courtesy of photographer Uchiha Mikoto who had proven herself to be remarkably good at capturing shy creatures in their natural habitat, and he hated to see it tossed on the dirty floor like a piece of rubbish.

Kusanagi straightened, lip curled in disbelief. "As if you don't know," he said, and to add insult to injury _stepped_ on Minato's photograph.

It was better to save his anger for if or when something happened to the _real_ Kushina, but Kusanagi was just lucky that Minato's hands were tied behind his back or he would have been sporting a very bloody nose right then.

"This is one of the most valuable people alive, we're talking about," Kusanagi went on. "_Far_ more valuable than you'll ever be, for however celebrated you are you're still just the son of a whore. As shinobi go, this girl is practically royalty. Not only is she the daughter of Uzushiogakure's leader, she's a direct blood descendant of the founding clan. There's few like her left."

"That's great," Minato responded with a bored drawl, "but if you're hoping to get a better ransom for her, the name Uzumaki doesn't mean that much to anyone anymore. You're better off sticking with me."

"You think this is about ransom? We're not as crass and desperate as that. If this was about money I grudgingly admit that you are the more profitable prisoner, even though in a just world people would see you are nothing but mud next to the gleaming gem that is Uzumaki Kushina."

"I should put that in my next valentine card," observed Minato. "She'd love that."

"Well, when you send it don't forget her change of address. By next February she'll be with us."

Minato nodded vaguely. "And what will you do with her when she so generously gives herself to you?"

"Oh, now _that_ is a good question." Kusanagi practically quivered as he looked down at Kushina's photograph, and Minato had known enough perverts to recognise the kind of thoughts running through his captor's head... and they were not harmless. Only when he felt the straps around his hands cut deeper into his flesh did he realise he was trying to flex his fists.

Kusanagi noticed. "Don't be so dramatic," he derided. "We'd have no intention of harming her. As I said, she's a royal jewel who would be a great asset to us. There are things she knows... things only she has access to that we need."

This had to be about her father's sealing techniques. Somehow they'd found out or they'd deduced that the daughter was the current caretaker of her father's techniques, and if they couldn't get to her directly in Konoha, they'd gone through Minato instead. The only reason Kusanagi was speaking with him now was to prod him to see what he knew, but Minato was good at playing dumb.

"What the hell would Kushina know that would matter to you? I love her dearly, but she was bottom of the class at school and no matter how many times I explain it, she still thinks you can find the base of a rainbow if you run towards it." What a memorable Sunday afternoon that had been.

"You can't fool me, young man. When Konoha protects her so jealously it is clear that they know her worth, and as her lover she would most definitely confide in you."

"Confide _what_?" Minato demanded impatiently, like someone who truly didn't know what was going on.

Kusanagi must have doubted – just a little bit – how much Minato knew or that flash of irritation wouldn't have made the powdery lines around his eyes deepen and he wouldn't have gone on to explain. "Surely you know of the disaster that destroyed the Whirlpool village."

"Sure," Minato said with a shrug. "The civil war happened and then-"

"_No!"_ Kusanagi all but screamed at him, like a tyrannical teacher at a child who couldn't add two and two together. "The disaster that killed their second leader and wiped half the village off the map!"

"What, the tsunami?" Minato honestly struggled to remember. It had been alluded to in the history books he read, but it seemed like they'd all had different ideas of what happened. "Or was it some kind of hurricane?"

"Tsunami? _Hurricane?_" Now teacher was really enraged. "It was a bijuu, you brat! And nothing less than the nine-tailed fox, the most terrible of _all_ the tailed beasts! What are they teaching you young people in Konoha these days?"

Minato didn't believe it for a second. Kushina would have mentioned something as calamitous as that, and who knew if that thing even existed? It was a bedtime story used to scare children. Adults were supposed to grow out of believing those kinds of things.

"By all rights that village should have fallen into the sea and every soul should have perished," Kusanagi continued, pushed into full lecture mode. "Except one man stood up and put an end to its wrath, and a jinchuuriki was born that day."

"This is a fairytale," Minato said.

"That man's daughter knows who the nine-tailed jinchuuriki is! Either she knows... or she _is.._."

"That's enough! This is absurd!" Minato shouted, his bonds biting painfully into him again. "If you're insinuating Kushina is a jinchuuriki-!"

"That is _exactly_ what I'm saying."

"Then you need your head seeing to!" Minato ground out savagely, thrusting his chin at the photo of the shyly smiling girl who couldn't have been further from the grotesque husk he'd seen in Suna. "Does she look like a jinchuuriki to you? Do you think I would date a freak like that?"

Every bit of his anger was genuine, and Kusanagi appeared to pause and reassess him. "It would make sense," he said. "She's from a clan whose chakra makes them almost _perfectly_ suited to become hosts. The nine-tailed fox didn't disappear into thin air, and if a jinchuuriki was created it's someone from her clan."

"_If_ there was ever a fox," Minato retorted, making it clear he was doing nothing more than entertaining a hypothetical. "Why would Kushina know where it is now? Her village is scattered, she knows no one from her own clan that survived or she wouldn't have been dropped in an orphanage in Konoha without a penny to that great name of hers."

"Which makes her our primary suspect."

"That's ridiculous! What kind of father would turn his own child into a monster?"

"What indeed?" This conversation had obviously not gone the way Kusanagi had hoped. With hooded eyes he turned back to the door, and through the grill Minato thought he glimpsed A watching them silently. His question might as well have been 'what kind of brother would do that to his sibling' for here was one such person. Minato couldn't understand that. Jinchuuriki couldn't be controlled, and Kumo should have known better than anyone what kind of destruction they wrought. Why hand someone of your own family over to that? Was the search for power so ruthless that sacrificing your own brother was considered an honour?

Kusanagi turned back to him. "If she can't give us what we want, it doesn't matter. We have other uses for someone with chakra like hers," he said, gesturing for A to open the door. "We acquired the two-tailed cat recently and it needs a host..."

Minato told him exactly what he thought of that in a string of expletives that would have made his subordinates faint in shock if they heard him now. Kusanagi smirked and stepped out of the cell – but only after he'd scooped Kushina's picture off the floor to take with him- and the moment it was closed behind him the grill snapped shut and the light above Minato was switched off.

He was left in that darkness for the rest of the week. Convinced that he knew nothing relevant, Kusanagi no longer came to see him, and the only other contact he had were the people who gingerly stepped in once a day to leave a plate of dry rations and a glass of water at his knee. But once they were gone he was back alone in the darkness, left trying to figure out how to take a sip of water with his hands tied behind his back.

He managed, even if most of it did end up on the floor.

They wouldn't keep ignoring him forever. He was banking on that, and in the mean time the meagre food and drink was enough to sustain him, the occasional pill saw off the worst of the headaches, but he was fast acclimatising to his new position in more ways than one. It gave him plenty of time to think, at least. If the darkness was supposed to be depressing and disturb his sense of time, Minato found it quiet and contemplative. He spent hours musing about what everyone he knew would be doing. His substitute would be getting more than he bargained for right about now, running the outpost and no doubt sending out hectic search parties. Gekko would be feeling nauseous no doubt, and Yuuhi would be blaming himself. Somewhere in Konoha the Hokage would have been notified by now and while his nephew was probably pumping his fist in joy, what would Kushina be feeling? Was she terribly worried and camping out by the letterbox in the morning to hear news of him? Or was at that moment packing his belongings in boxes and shipping them off to charity to teach him a lesson about not taking his leave?

Knowing Kushina... he could trust her to be unpredictable.

It was roughly seven or eight meals later – his only marker for the passage of days – when his cell door opened and none other than A himself walked in with his plate of squashed rice cubes and vegetables. "Thank you," Minato said graciously, like he would to one of his subordinates who had brought him a fresh coffee. "Just leave it over there on the floor as usual and I'll mash my face into it when I get the chance."

A paused, frowning faintly in annoyance. Perhaps he had planned to drop the food off like the others without a word, but instead he came right over to Minato, crouched, and held out the glass in offering.

"My hands are a bit tied at the moment," Minato explained dryly.

"Then tip your head back," said A. "Idiot."

Taking a drink from a glass without holding it precariously between his teeth made a welcome change. Most of it ended up down his throat this time, and when A lifted one of the rice balls to his mouth he almost smiled. "Now you're just spoiling me."

"Since you decided to lodge with us, we might as well roll out the five star treatment," said A. It may have been a joke, but when he never lost that peevish expression it was hard to tell.

"Pardon?" Minato asked, chewing.

"You must think I'm some kind of idiot."

Minato wisely decided to say nothing.

"For someone who made his reputation out of speed, you sure were as slow as snail shit out there," he said, cramming the next ball of rice into Minato's mouth before he could swallow the first. "I don't like being played, and I really don't like being taken lightly. You gave up without throwing a single punch."

Minato fought hard to swallow. "My head was embedded in the mountain," he reminded him.

"Because the moment you realised we were there to take you alive, you let me get my hands on you." Plate empty, A tapped its edge against the concrete floor as he stared Minato over with deep dislike and suspicion. "You're here because you want to be here."

"You're right. This is much better accommodation than the barracks." Minato's voice ran thick with sarcasm. "How could I pass up the opportunity?"

A rose to his feet. "Kusanagi isn't as smart as he thinks he is," he said. "But neither are you. Maybe next time you want to give a more authentic performance you'll bother to put up a fight."

He left the cell, but before shutting the grill in the door he looked in once more at Minato's scowling face. "I have my eye on you," he said with droll finality, and then that was that for all the human contact Minato would have that day.

His patience was rewarded, however, when early the next morning Kusanagi stormed into his cell. Minato woke at the sound of the pounding footsteps and levered himself upright in time to have a scroll smashed over his sleepy face. Another bruise to add to his growing collection, he thought. "Refused!" was Kusanagi's shrilly shout. "The Hokage refuses to trade for you!"

"You really expected anything different?" Minato wondered aloud. Maybe that kind of ruthless prioritisation was common in the Kumo elite, but Minato had known from the beginning that the Hokage would never buy out one life with another. At the end of the day he was a jonin and expected to fend for himself. His job was to protect his chunin subordinates, not expect them to throw themselves on a sword for him, especially not his chunin girlfriend.

"Foolish nobility!" Kusanagi spat. "Or else he thinks her more valuable than you. No matter either way, he has signed your death certificate since you're no longer any use to us. Get him up!"

This last order was barked at the two men, previously seen delivering his daily meals, who came in from the corridor. Now they were going to deliver _him_ somewhere, and they both hauled him up by his aching shoulders and dragged him out of the cell. It felt blazingly bright compared to all those days in the dark cell.

"What do you plan to do with me?" he asked quite calmly of Kusanagi who followed closely behind them.

"You're no use now except as a source of information," his captor said coldly. "We'll keep you alive for a few days, on enough drugs you'll be spilling all your most intimate secrets, and then we'll kill you and dissect you and find out how someone from such low origins became the Yellow Flash."

"You're breaking the peace treaty," Minato warned him as he was shoved and shuffled through a narrow doorway into a new room occupied by a single wooden chair. "If you torture and kill me, it'll be war."

"_It's already war!_ Kumo is already planning to invade Konoha before the month is out. In the slaughter you'll be forgotten. Just another casualty. Put him in the chair."

Minato was dumped unceremoniously into the seat, and as his two escorts took up position flanking the door, Kusanagi moved to a small, neat table set up by the wall. From where he sat, Minato could see several syringes laid out in a clinical metal tray.

"Truth serum, is it?" he guessed.

"Such a heavy-handed and imprecise method to gather intelligence," Kusanagi admitted. "But we shan't waste too much time on this. You've been the commander of your little outpost for a while now, and your best information is no doubt two years out of date by now, but there are some things I'd like to know that I can't learn from your dead body. The drugs will feel like they're burning you from the inside out, so to save yourself desperate agony, do you feel talkative?"

"Ask away," he said.

"How did you kill General Akuze when you were sixteen?" Kusanagi picked up one syringe and squeezed the plunged until a few beads of orange liquid wept from the needle's tip. "How was that possible?"

Minato had a feeling he was going to be stuck with that needle no matter how fast and honestly he talked. "I killed him in his bed. He was asleep."

"So you simply snuck into his bedroom like an underhanded dog?" Kusanagi asked, disbelief etched in every line of his face.

"I'm a ninja." Underhanded dogs was what they were. Only the samurai maintained standards of honour and noble conduct, which was why there weren't many of them left.

"Touché. So you just _snuck_ in. How disappointing."

"Oh, no," Minato interrupted. "I had to use Hiraishin. It was actually very tricky."

"Hiraishin," Kusanagi seized upon that name greedily. "The technique you're named for. Tell me, how does it work?"

Minato rolled his head to one side, debating whether or not to freely give away the secret of his most prized jutsu. Not even Kushina was privy to the details (though it had to be said her eyes glazed over with boredom whenever he talked about it). Deciding there was little harm at this point, he shrugged his indifference. "I make a mark and imbue it with my chakra, and then I can move freely between points providing there is a mark. It's faster than light and noiseless. I fought Akuze in his own base and planted a mark on his chest. When he finally let his guard down, I returned and stabbed him through the heart."

"I need details," Kusanagi demanded. "How do these marks operate? How can you move between them faster than light?"

Minato searched for the right words, even though it wasn't something that could truly be explained with the limited vocabulary of language. "I suppose if you consider time and space in one dimensional form, as one long line that we slog through in its natural linear flow, Hiraishin bends the line at two points and makes a loop, taking two points in space and converging them into one point in time. If I place many marks, the line becomes a series of loops... the best way I can explain it is that it becomes the shape of a flower with petals. While everyone else must walk the furthest edges of the petals' outline, I move from point to point in the centre of the flower where the petals meet. I can move forward through space without moving through time, making travel instantaneous, if you get my meaning."

Minato was treated to a very familiar glazed stare. "What hand seals do you use?"

"I used to use hand seals, but they're not necessary anymore."

"And how do you place these marks?"

"I can draw them for permanent ones. For temporary one-use marks I just touch my hand to an object, or a surface, or a person. I don't even have to use my hand these days... my foot is pretty good."

"And the range of this technique?" The syringe in Kusanagi's hand was drooping, forgotten.

"Many miles. For instance, I'm currently connected to a tag in my outpost. How many miles away is that?"

"Twelve," said Kusanagi uncertainly.

"Then my range is over twelve miles at the very least."

His captor was beginning to look increasingly confused, gesturing to something invisible on his left, and then to his right like he was adding the pieces up. "But," he said slowly, "if you don't need to use your hands and you're connected to a tag in your outpost... what's stopping you leaving right now?"

Minato broke out into his first true smile. "Nothing."

"Nothing..." Kusanagi repeated slowly. "Then why are you still here?"

"Curiosity. But I think I've learned everything I needed to know, so thank you."

A beat passed where Kusanagi remained absolutely motionless. Then in an instant his muscles coiled and he lunged forward with the syringe, aiming for Minato's neck.

The needle stabbed the back of the chair and snapped, it's little fragments falling onto the empty seat. Kusanagi gave a roar of anger and frustration, which went unheard by Minato who – twelve miles away – had just landed in Gekko's lap.

Her shriek of shock was far more piercing.

* * *

TBC


	21. Capture, part II

A/N: Enjoy the quick update! This chapter was originally part of chapter 20, but when it started getting on to 20,000 words, I decided to split them up. And to clarify something from the last chapter; Yuuhi would be Kurenai's father, and Gekko is a female relative of Gekko Hayate. Let's say it's his sister. :D

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twenty-One: Capture, part II

* * *

Gekko had been having quite a bad week so far. Her commander had been kidnapped, his replacement seemed to think she was some kind of indentured tea lady instead of a jonin, and she had looked up her symptoms in the medical encyclopaedia and she _definitely_ had mountain syndrome and about two weeks left to live if her self-diagnosis was correct. It was not with pleasure that she was called forth to report yet another failure to all the Higher-Ups who'd arrived at their small outpost looking for answers and accountability. The search and rescue squads couldn't trace their missing commander and every day that passed was making the a dead trail even colder.

It was as the new commander was turning to her, no doubt to ask her to fetch everyone another round of tea, when something extraordinarily heavy landed in her lap and her vision filled with blond.

"Sorry!" Minato called apologetically when she careened across the room, wheezing as she rummaged through her pockets for her inhaler. A circle of astonished faces stared at him, and looking around he realised he'd appeared in his own cabin in the middle of some kind of meeting. His desk had been swept clean and turned into a conference table, and besides Gekko and Yuuhi he counted his substitute, three ANBU captains minus their masks and one Hatake Sakumo sitting beside his very own sensei – the latter of whom appeared more amused than astonished. Judging by all the papers on the desk they were very engrossed in search and rescue plans.

"A little help, please," he said, motioning his bound hands at them.

Sakumo was the first to get over his surprise and stood up. "Cut him loose."

Yuuhi drew a kunai and carefully severed the straps cutting into Minato's wrists, but even when they fell away and the raw welts beneath were laid bare he had trouble extending his fingers. Pain shot through every bone and tendon like fire. One of the ANBU captains of the medical division came forward and immediately began to ease the wounds with his cooling chakra.

Another of the ANBU captains rose from her seat beside Sakumo. "How good of you to join us," she said, perplexed. "We were just discussing you."

"Organising a party to celebrate – I mean, _commiserate_ your disappearance," said Jiraiya with a devious twinkle in his eyes.

"Sorry to spoil your plans," Minato responded.

Sakumo interrupted them impatiently. "Your report?"

"I was being held in a Kumo base about twelve miles away to the north-east of here. Initially they were attempting to exchange me for Uzumaki Kushina though when that failed they attempted to interrogate me."

"Yes, we got the strange ransom note," said Jiraiya, relaxing back in his chair. "The Hokage didn't think the terms were very agreeable. Sorry about that. I told him not to worry, I had every faith you'd fight your way out eventually."

"What rubbish!" the ANBU captain exploded at him. "You've been running around like a headless chicken all week! When you weren't shouting at the new recruits and reducing them to tears you were off sobbing in a corner yourself!"

"Libel!" declared Jiraiya furiously, springing upright again.

Sakumo's sharp tone cut through the room once more. "That aside... Minato, your return is a great relief and we can talk about this more tomorrow after you've rested and recuperated. Right now it is our job to mobilise a force quickly and move in on this base. Even though Kumo no doubt sanctioned this, they've officially dissociated themselves with the ones responsible, which means we can deal with them as we wish. Kumo needs to be shown what happens when they kidnap our people and try to extort us."

"Kumo's planning an invasion soon," Minato told him. "They won't be keeping up the peaceful pretence for much longer."

"How do you know this?" asked the ANBU captain.

"My captor was a very senior member of Kumo's intelligence section and a little too forthcoming when he thought I had no chance of escape. But since I'd given Gekko one of my kunai, I was able to leave at any time. I stuck around as long as I could to learn the reasons for wanting to abduct me and Kumo's plans in general." When the medical captain stepped away from him, Minato paused to look down at his hands, still badly marked and stinging but at least he could flex his fingers fully. "Oh, thank you, that's much better. Anyway, I only really returned so someone could cut me free. I'm not quite done with that base yet, so if you'll excuse me..."

He turned and went to the small closet where most of his gear had lain untouched in his absence. A new belt would be required. Smoke bombs, explosive tags, contract scrolls, a couple of kunai – he tested their sharpness on his already tattered sleeve and nodded in satisfaction when they sliced the fabric like it was soft butter. Behind him he heard the scrape of a chair as Jiraiya rose to his feet. "Leave this one to us, Minato," he said. "You've done enough."

"By the time you organise a force big enough to take the base and march it up the mountain, they'll have packed up and gone. We have only a few minutes at most." Minato slipped on a pair of gloves to protect his damaged hands and then paused, looking around the room for that one final thing he'd forgotten but he knew he needed more than anything.

He spotted the plate of half-eaten biscuits in the middle of the desk. "Ah." He went over and stuffed most of them in his mouth in one go. After a week of the bare minimum, he was unbelievably hungry. The biscuits would have to do for now until he could get home and park himself before an all-you-can-eat buffet for a few days. Or he could just park himself in front of Kushina and give her the puppy-eyes.

"We should discuss this plan," said the ANBU captain urgently, which was typical of her profession. If a fire broke out in the ANBU headquarters the captains would probably call a conference to decide what to do about it.

"This has been the plan for the best part of the week," Minato told her. "Please do not concern yourselves."

"Minato," Jiraiya sighed helplessly.

Swiping the last of the biscuits, he turned to Gekko. "If you could keep minding that for me just a little bit longer," he said, pointing to the marked kunai dangling from her belt. "I promise I'll aim myself a little more carefully next time."

"Sure thing, Taichou," she said faintly.

To the others he nodded one last time. "I'll be back shortly."

Before they could raise another protest he activated Hiraishin and stepped from the cosy warmth of his crowded cabin back into his dark, cold cell where the air was noticeably thinner. The chakra mark that he'd previously planted against the wall with his foot faded and he looked towards the door that had been left open invitingly wide. He swept through it and into the veins of the base.

The empty corridors were narrow and quiet and every couple of yards Minato ran his hand along the wall like a blind man feeling his way. It was an apt comparison since his probing chakra told him more about the structure of the base than his eyes could. Beyond these thick walls was pure rock and little else. The complex was a small one, more of a bolt-hole than a base, constructed within a mountain and was most likely invisible from the outside. An expedition from the Konoha outpost would hike right past it if they didn't know what they were looking for.

Static interference suddenly crackled through the hollow corridors. Minato was treated to the very unpleasant experience of hearing Kusnagi's disembodied voice screech through the base's intercom system. _"Where is G and Akino? We're leaving in five – if you haven't collected the transferrals by then I'm leaving you behind and blowing the base with you in it!"_

If everyone was on a first name terms, there could only have been a handful of people occupying the base, which made sense given its small size. He'd made the right decision, he thought, raising a biscuit to his mouth the snap it in half. A clatter of boots echoed down the corridor ahead of him. Evidently someone didn't want to get blown up.

When the first Kumo nin ran around the corner and saw Minato, he braked so hard his companion ran into him from behind. Slack-jawed, he pointed. "It's him! He's right there!"

Minato took two deft steps and grabbed the pointing hand, slamming its owner into the wall and twisting his arm high behind his back until he gave a distinctive whimper. The second Kumo nin didn't hang back, and with one hand employed in restraining the first man and the other holding half a biscuit, there wasn't much he could do about it. He dodged the first punch. The second he deflected with his elbow. Before the increasingly desperate man could aim a third strike, Minato's foot lashed up, catching him in the stomach. A spluttering grunt bounced off the walls, followed by a sound _thud_ as Minato hooked the toes of his sandal behind the man's heel and swept his feet out.

Now with one man on the ground held in place by a foot against his throat and another pinned to the wall, Minato helped himself to the second half of his biscuit. "Where's Kusanagi's quarters, or wherever else is the centre of operations here."

Neither man spoke. The one on the ground tried to reach for a kunai but quite wisely stopped when Minato started to shift more of his weight onto the foot compressing his windpipe. "It's in your interests to talk to me," he warned them. "Either way I'm leaving you both unconscious and if I don't find your boss before he blows up this base, you'll both be charred corpses tomorrow."

"Round the corner, the way we came," said the man on the floor ever so quickly. "Up the stairs and then follow the corridor straight. It's the very end room, you can't miss it."

"G!" growled the man up against the wall, and began to struggle.

Minato looked at him sharply. "Don't move."

Perhaps he thought Minato was bluffing or that he wasn't being restrained so tightly. He continued to resist and tried to jerk his arm free of the lock... and in a small cascade of pops and snaps his elbow and shoulder shattered. His arm simply fell apart.

Minato smothered his scream with his hand and quickly pushed the writhing man to the ground. He reached for their throats, probing a thumb behind their carotid artery to press and massage the hidden pulse point that caused paralysis and hastened unconsciousness. True to his word, he would refrain from killing them; it was a little unsporting to kill them after they'd been so helpful.

After a few more moments, they shuddered and went still. When he was certain they weren't faking he picked himself up and ran off down the path they'd directed him to. He met no one else as he flew up the stairs and on the next floor up he discovered that his informant had been honest. Kusanagi's office really was hard to miss – Minato could see straight down the corridor and through the open door to where the man himself was flitting back and forth in a flurry of activity.

Minato started forward.

In the middle of his hectic rush he saw Kusanagi pause and lean down to speak into something on his desk. His voice echoed all around the corridors. "Where is my equipment! If you idiots don't fetch it up here right now-!"

He must have heard Minato's footsteps, as he suddenly broke off and turned expectantly. But the presumptuous expression lasted only a moment, replaced quickly with a sagging blankness of shock. Shock which quickly began to tighten into fear.

"Not one step closer or I'll activate every tag in this base and bits of us will be raining into the sea for months!" Kusanagi bleated.

Minato didn't pause. His steadiness disconcerted his Kumo captor who was not used to being ignored, and in that vital moment the old man quailed in hesitation. Minato walked right up to him without breaking stride, and in one seamless move had spun him around by his shoulder and dragged a kunai through his throat. It was always a messy method, but quick, and Minato had long ago learned how to direct the blood spray elsewhere. Kusanagi gurgled and began to fall.

Minato had moved on and forgotten him before his body hit the floor.

The desk was his goal. He could see he'd interrupted Kusanagi's attempt to compile the documents he wished to take with him and separate the ones to be left behind and destroyed. An exploding tag had been stuck to the wooden surface between the stacks of files and papers, ready to detonate in just a few minutes. Minato scored it in half with his kunai, deactivating it effectively before he assumed Kusanagi's job... collecting the data that needed to be saved.

He knew what to look for. As commander of his outpost he knew the likely keywords to look for and the places to find them. The most sensitive things were always the most innocuous. Minato picked up a file labelled 'Accounting' and a quick flip through the documents within yielded quite a few accounts, including an account of the positions of similar bases, an account of how many operatives were serving under Kusanagi, and an account of Konoha's weakest defence points along the border.

A heap of correspondence had been set aside in a box, probably to be burned with the remains of the base. Minato rescued the wad of assorted letters, knowing that although every stickler for the rules coded their messages, in the more casual and personal exchanges secrets were often dropped with alarming regularity.

On a cork board behind him he found a map of the base, which was almost certainly a blue-print for similar bases nearby. He took it down, along with the photo of the smiling red-head beside it. He tucked the latter safely back into his vest pocket before he plucked a scroll from his hip and snapped it open.

A rather large toad roughly the side of a Labrador appeared in the middle of the desk in a cloud of smoke. It began to give a croak of greeting before changing its mind. "Whoa – you know us toads explode at high altitudes," it gasped.

"Buck up, Gamakkun, it's not that bad," Minato said dismissively, neglecting to mention it had taken him more than a week to acclimatise enough to the conditions up here to even think about engaging in combat. Even now he was carefully trying to expend as little energy as possible. If he elevated his heart rate any higher than it was already he would undoubtedly faint.

"What is it you need?" Gamakkun asked.

"I need you to open your mouth."

"Wh –why? – _whaugh-_"

"Sorry about this," he said, jamming his stack of files and papers into the toad's gullet. He felt a little bad about it, but Jiraiya always assured him his summons were remarkably... _stretchy_. "I need you to take these quickly and securely to Jiraiya-sensei. He'll want to pass them along to the Hokage as soon as possible.

The files disappeared and Minato quickly withdrew his hand from the toad's slimy mouth. Gamakkun licked his wide lips, showing little evidence that anything so unnatural had just taken place. "Can do," he said. "But why can't you take them?"

"I want to stay a little longer and keep looking. In the mean time, _get this to Sensei,"_ he said urgently. "It's very important."

"Very important. Don't digest. Gotcha." Gamakkun squatted his front legs slightly, possibly the frog equivalent of a bow, and vanished abruptly.

Minato resumed his search, raiding every cupboard and drawer and alcove he could find. He couldn't let anything escape his notice now. This was a rare chance to raid the office of a very high ranking member of Kumo's force, and Minato had no intention of overlooking anything. If war was truly coming, this was life and death for who knew how many people. He ripped out the desk drawers to look for hidden compartments, poked his fingers into the light fittings in the ceiling, and pulled over the empty filing cabinet in the corner to make sure Kusanagi hadn't hidden anything behind it. Tugging the cork board off the wall seemed the next logical step in his thorough dismantlement of the office, but he was richly rewarded when it revealed the thick door of a safe.

Unfortunately for Minato, it was a safe designed by and for shinobi. A regular safe was easy to crack even without using chakra, but Minato only had to pass his hand over this one to feel the stringent precautions in place. All kinds of seals and wards must have been built into it because Minato's chakra couldn't penetrate it at all. There was no telling what was inside. Had Kusanagi intended to open it or leave it to be destroyed? If Minato had just held back a few more minutes perhaps he wouldn't be here having to figure out how to open it himself.

"Shouldn't have killed him," he sighed to himself, shooting the body on the floor an annoyed glance as if it was Kusanagi's fault for inconveniencing him. "Why do I always end up saying that?"

Minato probed a little chakra into the lock and was soundly rebuffed. Frowning deeply, he began to physically turn the dial, but he already knew it was hopeless. There were millions of combinations to choose from and he didn't have the time or patience to crack the code manually. His hearing certainly wasn't sensitive enough to discern one little click from the next. Someone like Hatake Sakumo, or even Kushina could probably just press their ear to the door, but Minato either had to find the code quickly or open the safe with force – and he neither thought Kusanagi was stupid enough to leave the code for his safe anywhere but inside his own head, nor had 'force' ever been his forte.

He still had to try. Stepping back a little, he lifted his hand and began to draw chakra into his palm and rotate it. It spun faster and tighter until the light of the swirling ball of chakra tinged the room a faint blue. It may not have been finished, but for this purpose, the rasengan might just do.

But when he slammed the whirling energy against the door of the safe, it did little more than scuff the paint work and leave a faint dint before dissipating.

Minato paused, panting a little from the exertion and wondering what to do next. He knew he couldn't expend much more energy... just using rasengan made him feel faint and light-headed.

"You!" he heard a terrific below from the corridor behind him. "Stop right there!"

He turned. Someone was barrelling down the corridor towards the office like a bull charging for a red flag. It looked like A had finally caught up to him.

As quick as the flash he was named for, Minato hopped over the desk and reached for the heavy door. Kicking Kusanagi's arm out the way, he slammed it shut and bolted it, but not before he threw a handful of smoke bombs into the corridor. The noxious gas would fill the airspace and slow A down, at least for a minute or two. Minato just needed those few extra minutes.

Since he didn't have much left to loose, Minato went for the crude method. He overturned Kusanagi's desk chair and cut off one of its metal legs with a chakra-charged kunai. The tapered tip was just narrow enough to slide between the safe's door and its frame, and if he could just push hard enough he might-

The office door exploded inwards. Minato ducked instinctively, only narrowly avoiding being turned into a smear against the wall as the door, knocked right off its sturdy hinges, ripped through the desk and ended its violent flight scant inches away from where he'd been standing. Minato felt like someone had dropped a bucket of loose nuts and bolts into his brain. His nerves jangled as he stared at the shattered desk and the smoke pouring in through the hole where the door used to be, and the huge man stepping inside without a hair out of place.

A looked down at Kusanagi's body and merely grunted. "Figures," he drawled, shifting his hooded gaze to Minato. "I don't doubt turnabout is fair play after what we did to you. Tried to do. But it ends here. Go now or you'll be joining Kusanagi."

Minato's back was pressed quite hard to the wall like he was unconsciously trying to sink through it. A was giving him a free pass to leave because he knew there was no realistic way he could stop Minato using Hiraishin again, and frankly it was very tempting to take that advice. Seeing him punch through that door did things to one's stomach... and it did not leave him eager to see what his punches could do to a human body.

But a terrible, dangerous idea had just popped into Minato's head, and he could not shake it free...

"Your boss went down a little easy," he said to A. "Is someone like him really your superior?"

"Head of the Intelligence Division," A grunted flatly. "All brains and no brawn, that lot. In his case, he's a politician, so no brains either."

"Maybe I just did you a favour then."

"No, you just gave me a shit load of paperwork. Not to mention I was looking forward to the day I could start making him squirm when I became _his_ superior." A lifted his enormous fists and began to crack his knuckles.

Minato remained rooted to the spot. "Oh, that's right," he said, seizing on this opening. "You're going to be Raikage one day, aren't you? Is that because you're the strongest in your village, or because of your brother?"

A went still, eyes narrowing sharply on him. "Excuse me?"

"I hear that in your village the Raikage is chosen because of his relation to the eight-tailed monster. That's your brother, right? If they have to select the Raikage from his pool of relatives, I'm guessing you're his only family."

"Pretty much," said A, eyeing Minato like pesky fly he was debating whether or not to swat.

He needed more pushing. "Or is it the other way around?" Minato continued. "Is the host of the eight-tails chosen because of his relation to you? Being the reason your brother is turned into a monster has to suck. How long do you think this one will last out? The previous host only lasted six months, right? And the one before that was less than three weeks? How long before your little brother goes berserk and kills everyone and leaves you to pick up the pieces? I suppose it doesn't matter... you must have spare little brothers, right?"

A surged forward, fist raised and face set. Either Minato had enraged him to the point of seeing red, or he was just bored listening to him ramble, but the effort had paid off. Minato threw himself to the side a split second before A's charged fist smashed against the wall where he'd been standing. Concrete cracked and exploded out, filling the room with a cloud of dust to add to the gas from the smoke bombs.

Something else beside concrete skidded across the floor beside Minato; he looked up and saw the dial from the safe skudding through the remains of the desk. Triumphantly he rolled upright and looked back at the hole A had made. The corner of the wall safe had taken the brunt of the blow, its door was missing, as was a large part of its frame and the concrete wall beside it, and now heavy Kumo coins were trickling out onto the floor like a waterfall of money. Even A was momentarily bemused, looking down in confusion at the coins collecting at his feet.

Minato was not interested in Kusanagi's personal or professional wealth. His eyes had landed on a thin manila envelope that teetered on the lip of the safe, about to slip onto the floor. Quickly, before A could regroup himself, Minato shot forward, dashing between A and the safe and snatching the envelope as he passed.

He was brought to a screeching halt when one of A's impossibly strong hands caught his hair. The other seized his wrist, holding it immobile in a crushing grip that almost caused Minato to drop his prize. Mouth open in a silent cry of pain, Minato held himself very still.

"By all accounts you'll be the next Hokage yourself, Namikaze Minato," said A, restraining him effortlessly. "So let me give you a piece of advice."

He pulled Minato's head closer to his so that Minato couldn't miss a nuance of the contempt and anger that twisted in A's face. "As long as you cling to the old bigotry and prejudices, the day you become Hokage is going to be the beginning of a dark era for Konoha. If someone like you is the best Konoha can offer, there'll never be peace between us, and if we-"

"You're ones to talk about peace!"

Raising his chakra up to the surface, it lashed around his skin in its purest elemental form. And when concentrated enough, wind could cut like fine razor blades. Little snicks and snips plucked at Minato's clothes, ripping and tearing them. Great chunks of his own hair rained down around his shoulders. Most importantly, A lost his purchase and wheeled away, fingers bleeding.

At once Minato formed a new series of seals and pushed his hand towards the enormous man. A blast of air rocked the room. Whatever had been tenaciously clinging to the walls so far finally fell away, joining the pieces of the desk and loose coins that rose from the floor and shot with hurricane force straight for A.

Battered by the onslaught, the big man stumbled back into the far wall, lifting his arms to protect his face.

Kushina's techniques came in awfully handy sometimes, but Minato couldn't keep it up. The air was already too thin, his heart was hammering like an overly tight drum in his chest, and he dropped the jutsu as a wave of profound weakness swept over him.

When the shrapnel fell away, A brushed the chips of wood from his shoulders with his bleeding hands like they were bits of lint. "You're out of your element here," he remarked.

"How can you lecture about peace to me," Minato gasped out, ignoring him, "when your village is planning to wage war on us over a misunderstanding? When you inflict constant turmoil and violence on yourselves because of your pursuit of bijuu? You don't have the right to talk about peace!"

"Bijuu are the path to absolute power and absolute peace," said A, "or have you forgotten how the founding father of your village used them?"

"He never implanted them into anyone!" Minato bristled. "That kind of cruelty is unforgiveable!"

"It's true my brother Bee will always suffer cruelty and hardship... but not because of any bijuu." A's glare was low and dark. "His suffering will always be at the hands of people like you."

"And all the jinchuuriki before him who were driven mad and forced to become instruments of slaughter by their own insanity? What about them?" Minato demanded coldly. "Or are we supposed to forget about them?"

"Acceptable collateral," said A.

"Along with all their victims, no doubt." Minato shook his head in disbelief.

A snapped some of the congealing blood from his hands and rolled his shoulders. "It seems we won't agree on this," he said, "and you've had your run of this base long enough."

And he attacked.

It was easy to look at someone as large and physically powerful as A and assume he would be a similar opponent to Jiraiya; rocklike and immoveable, hard to injure but slow in movement. So it was easy to be taken aback when Minato could barely stay ahead of him. A's body took on a charged hue, encased by an aura of chakra, and when he punched Minato ducked, but only just. When he picked up one of the desk drawers to smash it over Minato's head, he threw himself to the floor, but barely in time. And when A lifted a foot to stomp him through the concrete floor, Minato rolled away, but only with scant millimetres to spare.

Smoke bombs slipped from his pouch and cracked open, engulfing Minato in a cloud of grey. His spare hand groped for something – _anything_ – to throw and landed on a chip of plaster. It would do. No sooner had he touched it than he marked it, then threw it as true as an arrow at A's head.

A saw it coming, of course. Even from the cover of a smoke screen his reactions were fast enough to avoid sharp little projectiles. He inclined his head and let the piece of plaster slip harmlessly past his ear to rebound against the ceiling. His mistake in ignoring it registered just one fraction too late for A, and gratingly early for Minato. A began to turn...

Minato landed on his back, and the kunai he'd been aiming for A's neck sunk into the slab of muscle that was A's shoulder and no further. It might have been devastating for anyone else, but for a man this size it was nothing more than a flesh wound. Minato sprang back, attempting to gain distance as A lashed out. One heavy fist connected with Minato's ribs and knocked him flying into the severely beaten filing cabinet.

"I think we've had our fun now," A said, walking over to Minato's stunned form as if he couldn't even feel the kunai sticking out of his shoulder. "It's time for our goodbyes."

He charged his fist one last time and struck... and it was not Minato he aimed for, but the wall beside him. The support gave out and the plaster cracked. Minato had time enough to register the crushing concrete blocks falling on him before his body reacted instinctively.

By the time his mind caught up he was lying in the middle of the outer quad of his outpost, being peered at by a curious Gekko and a platoon of chunin.

"Taichou?" Gekko, who was perhaps beginning to grow accustomed to his sudden appearances, snapped to attention. "You're back, sir!"

Patting himself down to make sure he _definitely_ hadn't been crushed, Minato sat up slowly and probed for the tagged kunai he'd left in A's shoulder. He detected it for only a brief moment before it was snuffed out like a distant light in the darkness and he felt no more. A had destroyed it. By collapsing the wall he'd forced Minato to activate Hiraishin to escape and then had promptly destroyed Minato's only means of getting back.

But it hadn't been a total loss, he thought, looking down at the badly scuffed and bent envelope in his hand.

"Taichou, what happened?" Gekko asked, reaching down to help him up "You look as bad as I feel!"

Yes, his clothes were a little worse for wear and he had inadvertently chopped most of his hair off, but it had to be said that these were mostly self-inflicted. The bruised ribs and loose tooth, however, were A's handiwork. "I'm fine," he said, which was mostly true. "What's going on?" he asked, looking at the team of chunin.

"That ANBU woman is organising a team to locate the base," Gekko told him. "She says-"

"Forget it," he said, approaching the chunin with a raised voice. "Field trip cancelled. You can all disarm and go back to your barracks."

This was met with groans of disappointment, but obediently they began to disperse. Almost at once the door to his cabin opened and people streamed out. Jiraiya, Sakumo, and Yuuhi, headed by the ANBU captain. "What's the meaning of this?" she asked, sounding more curious than anything.

"An expedition to the base is out of the question," Minato told her. "There's a man called A up there... and the chunin of this base aren't equipped to deal with him or the conditions. It's best we leave it for now. Besides, I've already dealt with the man responsible and recovered as much intelligence as I could."

"I got the papers you sent with Gamakkun," Jiraiya told him. "They should be with the Hokage by now."

"I got this too," Minato said, holding up the manila envelope.

"What is it?" the captain asked.

"I don't know. The man in charge there was keeping it in his safe, so I figured it had to be important," If it turned out to be the first chapter draft of Kusanagi's pompous autobiography, Minato was going to be very annoyed.

The captain accepted the envelope and handed it off to Sakumo. "I see," she said. "Thank you for your hard work tonight. But may I suggest you take some rest now? You look like you need it."

Minato nodded gratefully, suddenly feeling exactly as tired as he should have been feeling hours ago. Jiraiya's arm slung around his shoulder in the guise of camaraderie, with a blithe comment of _"Nice haircut, kid,"_ though he knew his sensei was holding him up and steering him towards the cabin before he dropped in an embarrassing heap in the middle of the quad.

"Sensei," he began wearily as they entered into the quiet office that connected to his private room. "I think I may have missed the festival."

"Yes, I think you did," Jiraiya said cheerfully.

"How annoyed was Kushina?"

"Very," he reassured him. "But she was quite relieved to hear you'd been kidnapped."

"What."

"Yes, a girl is much happier when the reason her boy stood her up is because he is being held captive by ruthless enemy nin than because he couldn't be bothered making time for her."

"Well, at least she's happy."

"Oh, no, Minato, she's been quite upset. It's one thing to think your boyfriend stood you up, but to learn he's actually being held captive by ruthless enemy-nin? Hoo, boy."

"... I don't get it."

"Women, Minato." Jiraiya shook his head as if this explained everything. "Women."

It sort of did.

"I suppose I did let myself get captured on purpose," Minato sighed. Jiraiya had escorted him into his room and had directed him to slump on the bed. "I should try to make it up to her."

"You'll have plenty of time for that," said Jiraiya, patting him on the head like he was still a ten year boy as opposed to a twenty-one year old man. "You'll be coming back to Konoha with us when we leave to report to the Hokage. He'll be willing to let you retire a little early from this post in light of everything that's happened."

"That's nice," Minato yawned. "As long as we go by boat."

"I don't think it makes much difference time-wise... but why by boat?"

"There's something I need to pick up."

* * *

Two days later, Konoha's Yellow Flash was safely restored to his village, though word that he'd single-handedly destroyed yet another base had made the rounds long before he arrived through the gates. His reputation, he felt, was going to start exerting its own gravitational force at the rate it was growing.

It had been difficult parting ways with the outpost he'd called home for the last two years. Gekko had teared up, claiming allergies, and Yuuhi had gone on about it being an honour and a privilege as if Minato was dying instead of simply going home. His chunin subordinates had thrown an impromptu party in his honour the night before he left, and were not content until it seemed each and every one had bought him a beer. Whether this was out of affection for him or out of malicious retribution for all those drills he'd made them do in the sleet and snow, Minato wasn't sure. He had a thumping headache most of the way to Konoha.

Hatake Sakumo insisted it was quite urgent that they make their way directly to the Hokage when they got back. Minato would have preferred to slink home and find Kushina, but he understood that Sakumo had seen something in those documents from Kusanagi's safe that had put him in an unusually dark mood. It seemed a little unnecessary, however. Sakumo and Jiraiya went to consult with the Hokage in privacy, leaving Minato in the waiting room to consult with boredom – they hadn't decided yet if Minato was cleared to be included in the discussion of the information he himself had found.

One of the Hokage's aides brought him a glass of cool juice while he was waiting and all but melted when treated to his grateful smile. He had settled down to stretch out and examine his toes when the sound of raised voices drifted through the door to the corridor.

"-you know me, you see me here all the time, what's the problem?"

"The Hokage's in a meeting and he's not to be disturbed."

"It's not the Hokage I want to disturb!"

"It's the rules. No one's permitted-"

"Let me tell you where you can go stuff those rules-!"

Minato bounded across the waiting room and threw open the door. "Kushina!"

She had just started to bodily grapple with the guard outside, but the moment she saw him her face lit up like a child presented with her favourite toy. "Minato, I'm so glad you're – _would you let me go?_"

"It's ok," he said to the guard who had his arms wrapped around her. "Let her in."

She ducked beneath the guards slack arms and into the waiting room before he could change his mind. "I've been so worried – everyone said you were back – I'm so relieved – I was beginning to think I'd never see you again – I knew you'd be ok though – oh no, your poor face! Your horrible hair! What happened?"

Although the bruise A had given him had healed significantly, he'd still been left with an impressive mottling of yellow and purple across his cheek and jaw. Kushina lifted her hand as if to trace the injury, but her fingers didn't quite dare to touch his skin. "I'm ok," he told her. "It looks worse than it is."

"I can't believe this happened because of me," she sighed angrily. "Isn't it normally the little woman that gets kidnapped to get to the hero? What the hell, Minato? You got it the wrong way round, as usual."

"You did warn me they'd come for you to get to your father's techniques."

She chewed her lip guiltily. "The Hokage suspected they were after me for my... condition. I wanted to give myself up but he wouldn't let me."

"Good."

"_Good?_ For them maybe. I totally would have kicked their asses for hurting you. Nobody messes up my boyfriend's face and lives."

"I was never in any real danger," he reassured her, stroking a lock of crimson hair back behind her ear. "I'm just sorry I missed the festival."

"Oh, whatever." She shook her head exuberantly, dislodging her hair again. "Better to have you back late than never."

"I still felt bad... so I got you a present."

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth dropped open a fraction. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"You're a serious lunatic, you know that?" she snorted in a very unladylike manner. "Only you would spend a week in a Kumo prison and come back with souvenirs."

"Well, not quite. Do you want your present or not?"

A shy grin spread across her face and she wrinkled her nose adorably. "_Seriously?_"

He wasn't starting that again. Taking her hand, he dragged her over to the chair where he'd left his travelling pack. Kushina peered curiously around him as he slipped open a side-pocket and withdrew a bulging paper bag. "It was quite tricky getting hold of these," he told her as he stripped the outer paper away and placed the inner, plastic bag filled with water into her hands. "Since I didn't get the chance to win you any goldfish, these will have to do."

"But these are..." Kushina trailed off, staring at the bag in her hands. Within it swam three little red fish with fins like billowing sails. "These are _my_ fish. I've only ever seen them in... don't tell me you went to Whirlpool!"

"If you go by boat, it's not far out of the way," he said. "I remembered you saying how you used to catch them when you were younger so... here you are."

"How could you have remembered something like that?" She gaped at him. "That was years ago!"

"I always seem to remember the things you say."

"But I say a lot of crap!"

"Yes, I know." He smiled and tucked that obstinate lock of hair aside again. "Do you like them?"

"_Ohmygod_, _yes!_" she blurted happily. "I'm going to buy an aquarium and then some rocks and –they prefer salt water if I remember right- and I'll get them some plants, and this one's going to be called Fugu-face because he looks like a horrible little brute-"

"I'm glad you like them," he interrupted. "I risked life and limb getting them, you know. I had to beat off a shark at one point."

"There aren't any sharks around Whirlpool," she reminded him briskly.

"Then it was probably some kind of enormous salt water crocodile. It even bit me."

She gasped. "Where?"

He rolled up his sleeve to show her his arm "Right there," he pointed.

She looked closely. "I don't see anything."

"Look right there, next to that freckle." When she only scrutinised his skin even more hopelessly, he sighed and pulled his sleeve down again. "Ok. It looked worse before."

Kushina looked up at him again with a wry smile. "You're so brave," she told him, without any kind of conceit, and moved forward on tiptoes to hug him. "And so thoughtful and stupid and –urgh- so thin! When did you get so bony?"

He thought. "Probably around the time some Kumo nin put me on a starvation diet."

She looked horrified. "You need to go home and eat!" she ordered, as the door to the Hokage's office opened up behind them. "You're going to slip between the cracks in the floorboards if you're not careful."

"Leave him alone, Kushina," said Sakumo from the doorway. "He's healthy enough-"

She whirled on him. "You may be fine with being a skinny rake, Sensei, but don't you start being a bad influence on Minato."

He nodded. "Yes, yes. Minato, could you step inside now?"

Minato looked at Kushina who shrugged. "I'll head home," she told him. "Be back by six and I'll make dinner. All your favourite things."

Not a herd of stampeding elephants or even more Kumo nin could possibly stop him. He told her so and she smiled, and leant up to press a quick kiss to his cheek, mindful of the fact that her sensei was standing there boring holes into the side of Minato's head with his eyes. She took her fish and absconded; Minato turned to Sakumo in satisfaction.

"You've failed the first rule of giving women gifts," Sakumo told him seriously. "Never give a girl something she'll prize more than you."

Minato refused to be psyched. "I doubt if those fish got kidnapped by Kumo she'd consider trading herself in for their release," he retorted as he moved past him into the office.

"Don't bet on it," said Sakumo warned sinisterly.

"He's right," said Jiraiya, who was occupying one of two chairs before the Hokage's desk. His feet were occupying the other. "When you told me you were going to get Kushina's childhood fish I knew you were doomed. She's going to go home and sweep all your pictures off the sideboard to make space for their tank. That's your problem, Minato. You're too damn thoughtful."

"It's painful to watch," Sakumo said.

"Excruciating," added Jiraiya. "Isn't that right, Sensei?"

"Quite," agreed the Hokage, although he didn't appear to be paying attention. His gaze was focused on the set of papers before him, which he looked up from reluctantly to gesture to Minato. "Take a seat, please."

Jiraiya obligingly removed his feet, allowing Minato to slide onto the chair while Sakumo stood vigil behind them.

"I suppose the first and most pressing question is, _are_ these documents genuine?" the Hokage began. "You said you found these in a safe in the base. In the office of one Umage Kusanagi?"

"That's right," nodded Minato. "I can't tell you if they're genuine or not, only how I found them."

So he repeated his story to the Hokage, about his rash decision to allow his capture in order to gather intelligence and all the events in between till the moment he'd returned to his outpost with those papers in hand.

"You say this 'A' suspected you had purposefully allowed your capture?" The Hokage said, running fingers over dry lips. "He must have suspected you were trying to mine information, so is there any chance he planted these for you to find?"

"I'm not sure," Minato admitted. The thought hadn't occurred to him. "It was Kusanagi's office and Kusanagi's safe... although A did technically open the safe for me, he did seem surprised by the fact. And I'm almost certain none of them expected me to return when I did, so I'm not sure they would have had time to prepare false information. Kusanagi definitely didn't see me coming. A literally caught me when I had those documents in my hand but he didn't try to recover them, so whether that means he wanted me to take them or he didn't know or care what they were...? Hokage-sama, I don't know."

The Hokage grunted. "As far as intelligence officials go, Kusanagi was not the most brilliant. If he was responsible for anticipating the intelligence leak and mocking this up, it's a real piece of work. Especially since it goes a long way to explaining the puzzling findings of our own intelligence officials. Such as why have Kumo troops been seen moving freely in the Iwa occupied regions of the Waterfall country? Why, when Iwa is accusing every village on the continent of infractions against them, are they sparing Kumo alone of any criticism? And why, when our sources report that Kumo nin captured the five-tailed bijuu six months ago, they have made no attempt whatsoever to implant it into one of their citizens despite their zealous history of doing just that at the first opportunity?"

Minato shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "And what do the documents say?"

The Hokage passed the papers to Minato and gestured for him to read as he gave a brief overview. "These documents are correspondence from the Raikage to Kusanagi, the latter of whom was apparently spearheading several operations. One of which was to screen potential hosts for their two-tailed bijuu. The other, to screen hosts for a five-tailed bijuu."

"Yes, he mentioned he wanted Kushina because her chakra supposedly made her an ideal host or something," Minato murmured. "But I don't understand what is so unusual about that."

"Kusanagi drew up a list of candidates to be the host of the five-tailed bijuu. We don't have the full list, but the Raikage shortlisted them and their names are on the next page if you'd like to turn to it. Yes. Do you notice anything unusual about those names?"

There were about twelve names in total, and at first glance he saw nothing strange about them whatsoever. By the tenth name, however, it began to dawn on Minato what was so odd. "These aren't traditional Kumo names," he said suddenly. "And I know this guy – he's in the bingo book. He's from Iwa."

"Yes, they're screening Iwa nin for hosts. Apparently with their consent."

"They're giving a bijuu to Iwa?" Minato skimmed hurriedly through the rest of the correspondence. "A peace offering? Or a-"

"A pact," Sakumo finished for him gravely. "Iwa and Kumo are affirming their sudden and rather inexplicable bond of friendship over a commonality."

"Their commonality being their shared hatred of Konoha," Jiraiya interjected. "Kumo wants to wage war against us and they're wooing Iwa to join them with gifts of bijuu, not that Iwa needs much convincing. And under the combined might of Iwa and Kumo together, things begin to look grim for little old us in the middle."

"Not if we interfere," said Sakumo. "With this information, we have a very narrow advantage. Iwa will be sending their chosen host to Kumo for implantation, and if all goes according to plan, they both go home happy. But if something were to go horribly awry, like say... the host is killed in Kumo before implantation, or the bijuu is released or stolen, Iwa and Kumo won't be so friendly anymore. This could be a prime opportunity to betray their trust in one another and set them at each other's throats."

"It's ambitious, but I see no alternative," sighed the Hokage, leaned back in his chair and turning slightly to regard rooftops of his village through the window. "According to the other documents you recovered, Kumo plans to initiate an invasion soon. We could hold them at bay well enough normally, but if they coordinate an invasion with Iwa who is already close to matching us in strength and size, we might not be able to hold two fronts."

"What about this business with the abductions?" Minato asked suddenly. "Kumo says their people are going missing and they blame us. If we can resolve it-"

"What is there to resolve?" The Hokage demanded, tiredness and irritation pulling at his features. Given how much grief Minato had been given by the Kumo emissary over this subject and learning that the Hokage was facing such accusations from all sides, he realised this was a well-beaten topic for the old man. "We're not responsible and I can say it till I'm blue in the face. They want war and they will cling to whatever reason they can think of."

"Are all the accusations baseless?" Minato asked, knowing the other three man were now acutely focused on him. And not in a good way. "They seem to really believe their people are going missing, as do other villages. Even if they're pointing the finger at the wrong people, is it that hard to believe they're all lying? After all, we had the same problem. Shinobi going missing, newborns stolen, with the victims suspected of being experimented on. It sounds too familiar. We thought we resolved the problem when it was ours but what if we didn't?"

The Hokage shook his head firmly. "Minato, we caught the man responsible. He committed suicide rather than face capture. It's no coincidence the abductions ceased after that-"

"Except they've only ceased _here_, just round about the same time they started elsewhere."

"Orochimaru conducted the investigation himself-" The Hokage began.

"It's not like precious Oro-kun is infallible," Jiraiya interrupted. "If whoever is taking these people can fool multiple villages into blaming the wrong people, he can certainly fool even Orochimaru."

The Hokage was not pleased, and his finger drummed the arm of his chair restlessly as he scowled at the documents upon his desk. "Even if we were to do what we could not do five years ago and bring this criminal to justice, what then? Do you really think the other villages will lay down their arms and thank us? Abductions are not their reason, it is their _excuse_. We can give them the man or men responsible, and they will only respond that they are our scapegoats. It doesn't matter what we do, and we can't devote resources to capturing this entity when we face an unprecedented alliance between two extremely powerful enemy states. Meagre placatory actions now is like slapping a bandaid on a severed limb!"

"Too much of a bother, you mean," Minato suggested mildly. "Because who cares if people are being kidnapped and slaughtered as long as they're not _our_ people."

Jiraiya kicked him discreetly.

"Should you ever become Hokage, Minato, and god help us all if that happens," the third Hokage said sharply, "let us pray you are never faced with the choice to save a handful of the enemy at the cost of the lives of countless of our own. Now please let us move on from this unpleasant subject before I lose my temper."

Minato suspected he may have already lost it, but dutifully sat back and sealed his lips for the rest of the meeting. It was agreed eventually that Sakumo would lead the mission to intercept the bijuu exchange between Kumo and Iwa, either to assassinate the Iwa host or wreak some pandemonium with the bijuu itself, whichever opportunity struck first. It sounded like a singularly difficult mission that would involve infiltrating the heart of Kumo undetected when it was at its highest alert. Minato offered to assist and was shot down in no uncertain terms. Jiraiya said he needed to rest, while Sakumo dryly remarked that their joint missions to other villages never ended well. The Hokage just eyed him like he was looking at a dirty hippy.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll get over it," said Kushina later. "That's how he looks at me all the time."

"Is that because you always argue with him or because you broke his nephew's heart?" Minato asked.

"Hum," she grunted as she checked the salt levels in her new fish tank. "Not sure about that. Maybe he just doesn't like you criticising his best student? Speaking of that weirdo, you know he's mentoring a little girl now? I've seen them together in town sometimes. I'm surprised they let someone like that even near children. Creeps me the hell out."

Once she was satisfied that the tank water was perfectly balanced, she turned away from it, leaving her new fishy friends floating in the bag on top. She smiled at him with her hands behind her back. "Why don't you go wash and get changed and I'll make you dinner. What would you like?"

"Anything. Whatever you make, I like." Kushina could make even reheated noodles taste divine.

"That makes it easy," she said, beaming sweetly at him.

Upstairs, Minato washed the built-up grime from his skin and hair and checked his bruises in the mirror. They weren't very dashing – not even in the badboy sense. His face just looked discoloured and ever so slightly lopsided while the marks on his hands and arms from his bindings still looked like he'd tangled with an angry jellyfish. The ANBU medic captain had offered to heal them completely, but Minato had refused. He planned to show them off later to Kushina who was always very sympathetic to even his most minor injuries and might even offer to kiss them better.

His hair was another matter. Yuuhi had done his best with a pair of scissors to even out the catastrophe Minato had wrought, but it had to be said that Yuuhi was not a master stylist, and Minato had not left much for him to work with. Still, there wasn't much Kushina's strawberry scented hair gel couldn't tame.

Sufficiently groomed, he went and dressed in his familiar old clothes which were indeed a little looser than he remembered. And as he pulled on his favourite lavender shirt he kept glancing over at his bed. He couldn't help noticing it had been completely stripped of its sheets and covers, and piled high with boxes full of assorted junk.

That was a pain. He'd been hoping to just crawl into it later without having to make it first.

In the kitchen Kushina was poking a wooden spoon into a bubbling pot that was just beginning to give off the first whiffs of Deliciousness. Minato sat down with at the table with an appreciative sigh and thought he ought to get kidnapped more often. He could get used to this kind of treatment.

"I hope you like ramen," she said. When she glanced over and witnessed the dopy smile on his face she shook her head in amused confusion. "What?"

"I've not seen you in a while," he explained. "I'm just enjoying the view."

"Pervert," she grunted.

Well, he hadn't quite meant it like that. He began a ham-fisted apology, insisting he hadn't been staring at her ass, but Kushina snorted at this and came to sit with him. "It's not like I'd mind if you were," she said without looking him in the eye, and reached across the table to pull his hand over to her.

She examined it closely, tracing the marks of the binding and the blue veins on his inner wrist that seemed especially stark against his skin after long days without a drop of sunlight. Her thumb followed the lines inside his palm to the tip of his fingers to explore his blunt nails, the swell of his knuckles, and the tiny hairs that tickled under her touch. She was focused, unusually so, and throughout the subtle intimacy he didn't take his eyes off her face.

And he hated to interrupt her, but eventually he had to point it out. "The pot's boiling over."

"Hm? Wh – oh!" She jumped up and lowered the temperature gauge, then stood looking at it irritably as if she could somehow shame it into feeling guilty.

It was hard to imagine how anyone could have thought she was a jinchuuriki. She may have been odd but he was willing to put her within the spectrum of what would be considered normal for someone who had grown up borderline feral. Anyone who had seen a real jinchuuriki would realise how ridiculous the notion was. The one he'd seen in Suna had been more animal than man, immobilised for his safety and the safety of the village, locked in a prison of his own body. The only sign of life had been the odd revolting quiver which had seemed more like the random firing of faulty synapses than conscious will.

He looked at Kushina collecting two bowls from the cupboard and the difference to him was like night and day. How could Kusanagi, who at the very least had come across the right-tailed jinchuuriki, make that kind of mistake?

However, he'd raised other questions that Minato himself had never fully understood.

"Whirlpool's a pretty interesting place." he began, wondering a little too late if this was the wisest time to pursue the subject. "But while I was over there getting your fish, something struck me as a little odd."

"What did?" she asked absently.

"I know there was a civil war and everything, but Whirlpool is in complete ruin," he said. "I've seen towns and even cities torn up by war but never like that, not unless there was some kind of massive bombing campaign that goes way beyond anything I've ever heard of."

"The reformists were not your average warmongers," she said distractedly, shooting him a confused glance. "What are you getting at?"

"There was a natural disaster that hit your island before the war, wasn't there? That's what caused most of the damage, right?"

The wooden spoon that had been stirring the noodles paused, but only for a split second. Kushina turned away, her shoulders hitched just a little higher than before. "Yeah, so?"

"What was it exactly?"

She shrugged sharply. "How should I know? I don't remember. I was like six when it happened. All I remember are the reformists." Then, oddly, she suddenly decided to remember. "It was an earthquake. I think."

Minato had never seen her looking as cagey and evasive as she did now. Her words came in jerky sentences like for some reason he'd suddenly managed to annoy her.

"Kusanagi – the guy who caught me – he seemed to think the Kyuubi attacked the island."

"Well, that's just silly." Kushina furiously banged her spoon against the edge of the pot, before slapping it down on the counter. "Whoever heard of such a stupid thing? The Kyuubi's not attacked anything in, like, seventy years."

Minato's hands flattened on the table. "Is that thing even real?"

"Well, yeah," she looked back at him uncertainly. "Isn't it?"

"I know there are other bijuu," he said. "Our founder is the only man in history who ever had dominion over all of them, and last I checked that was eight. The Kyuubi can't be real. I mean, the strength of the other bijuu is incredible, but the Kyuubi is on a whole other level. A totally malevolent spirit that can wipe mountain ranges off the map in a second – the world couldn't contain that kind of power... how could it exist? It's like the sixth sense, or the fourth dimension. People like to speculate but the ninth bijuu is nothing more than a myth."

"You don't think there could be more than eight?" she asked.

"If there's nine bijuu, why not ten? Why not eleven?" He shook his head. "If the Shodai couldn't control it, I doubt it exists."

"If you're so sure it doesn't exist, why bring it up?" Kushina turned contemplatively back to her cooking.

"Because if it wasn't the Kyuubi that destroyed your village, what was it?"

"I told you I don't remember," she said impatiently.

"The history books don't seem to remember either. You'd think the disaster that killed the second leader would be a noteworthy event, but I don't remember a single mention; not even a footnote. Are you sure you don't remember?"

"I was six," she repeated.

Minato sat back in his chair, unsatisfied but he could see the clear signs that Kushina was closing up on him like an obstinate little clam. When she didn't want to talk about something, pushing her could make her sulk for days, and he didn't want to fall out so soon after returning home.

In silence, Kushina poured her noodle broth into two bowls and set one of them before him. Gaze turned down, she handed him a pair of chopsticks then got to work slurping down her own portion. She paused long enough to look critically at his thin wrists that remained resting on the table. "Eat," she said. "Or I'll force-feed you."

"That would be interesting," he retorted cheekily, lifting a slice of radish to his lips.

They ate quietly for a while. Kushina gradually slowed down, cooling off enough to start savouring her meal. When she suddenly stopped, Minato looked up to see what was wrong. Kushina would never leave a bowl of ramen half-eaten.

"I genuinely don't remember," she told him, more easily than before though she still refused to meet his eyes. "The earth was shaking and there was panic and my mother made me hide under the stairs. Then my father came... I don't remember anything else. I doubt anyone else who survived saw much either, but if it _was_ the Kyuubi...?"

She looked up at him, and he saw her eyes were an unusually dark blue tonight. "If it was the Kyuubi," she went on, "my village wouldn't have advertised it. It's said the Kyuubi only appears where humanity is rotting. Malevolence attracts malevolence. If the Kyuubi comes for you, it's not something to be proud of, and maybe there is something in that? We fought ourselves into virtual extinction within three years, so maybe there was something rotten in us after all."

"Do you really think that's what happened?" he asked her, watching her closely as she poked her noodles unenthusiastically.

"Why is it important?" she shot back. "This 'Kusanagi' guy sounds like he had some screws loose. That ransom note he sent? Kept referring to me as a freaking 'jewel'. If you hadn't killed him I would have asked for a restraining order just to be sure."

"Yeah, he had some pretty weird ideas," Minato agreed. "Get this - he even had it in his head that you were the nine-tailed jinchuuriki."

Kushina stared at him.

"I know, right?" He lifted his bowl and drained the rest of his broth.

"And... what did you say to this?" she asked, voice oddly thin.

"That it was ridiculous, of course. You'd think I'd notice if my own girlfriend was a jinchuuriki. He saw how stupid it was eventually, but then he decided he wanted you anyway so he could implant you with the two-tailed bijuu. I told him he'd have to do it over my dead body. I'd sooner die than let them turn you into one of those things."

Kushina swallowed visibly. "That's sweet of you," she said, standing abruptly to whisk both their bowls over to the sink despite still not yet having finished her portion. Perhaps hearing of Kusanagi's strange plans for her had spooked her because she immediately changed the subject. "Well, I don't know what you're doing but I need to go out and run some errands."

"Right now?" he asked in confusion, glancing at his watch. It was a little late to run errands unless they were the kind of errands so nefarious they required the cover of darkness.

"Yes," she said with a stiffness that implied uncertainty. "Although I guess you'll be going to bed. All that travelling must have worn you out."

"I suppose, but before you go can you help me make it?" he beseeched. "Since you stripped it and covered it with boxes and all…"

Kushina suddenly swore and slapped a hand to her forehead – something he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone do in reality except Kushina. "I'm sorry! Of course, yes, I'll help you."

"What's that about anyway?" he asked her cheerfully. "When you wrote that you were turning my bedroom into a storage room I thought you were joking."

"I was, yes," she said distractedly, moving past him and out the door to climb the stairs. "I was actually trying to make your room unliveable with my crap before you came back for the festival."

Minato scrambled to the bottom of the stairs. "Why? Were you trying to kick me out?"

"Of your room, yes." She hesitated on the upstairs landing and braced her hands on the banister, looking down at him without actually looking directly at him. "I guess it was my stupid way of offering you my bed."

How confusing. Minato frowned. "Your bed? But then where would you sleep?"

After a long beat of silence Kushina's eyes rose to the ceiling and she shook her head in defeat. She moved on to his room to begin pulling the junk off his mattress.

Downstairs, the penny dropped. Minato, realising her true meaning, flew up the stairs faster than he had moved at any point during his fight with A. He stopped in the doorway of his own room and promptly began stammering like an idiot. "That's fine! Your bed – I'll take it – sharing stuff is good for the environment, right – don't bother moving your crap it looks good there!"

"Don't put a brave face on, Minato," Kushina said, kicking a box of old birthday cards across the floor. "I know you're tired and all bashed up. You don't want to share right now with someone who snores and steals the covers. I can wait."

Minato was really beginning to regret stopping the medic from healing his injuries. "I'm not that tired," he insisted. "And I like your snoring."

Kushina ignored him. "There," she said, clearing away the last box and dumping a load of folded sheets on the mattress. "You can manage the rest, can't you? I really have to go do my errands now."

"Now?" he repeated, even more incredulously than before. "Right now?"

"Yes." She tried to move past him, but Minato caught her by the wrist and pulled her close. Though she allowed him to cup her face in his hands he couldn't help but notice the reluctant roll of her eyes.

"It's my hair, isn't it?" he said plaintively. "You don't want me anymore."

"Minato!" she exploded, shoving him angrily.

Considering she normally laughed off his lame jokes, he knew he wasn't just imagining this funny mood-swing. "Then it's what we talked about," he guessed. "I'm sorry if I brought up bad memories or thoughts. I shouldn't have said anything."

"That's not-" she began awkwardly. "I mean, I'm not – I don't care."

"Ok," he said quickly, seeing as how she was turning an alarming tomato colour, either in badly suppressed anger or embarrassment. "You just have some errands to run. I understand."

She nodded pensively. "Yes, exactly."

Minato smiled and pressed a short kiss to her mouth, followed by a second much longer one when she didn't object. He tasted chicken ramen and an undeniable pout, and her hands spanned his ribs – not quite affectionately; more like someone measuring a joint of meat to see if she was getting her money's worth. Breaking the kiss, she scowled at him, but kept her comments on his weight to herself.

"I missed you," he told her. It was a bit of an understatement. Although they had technically been dating for two years, the amount of time they had actually spent in each other's presence must have added up to a total of perhaps one month or two. Letters had filled the void in their relationship, but they hadn't been a fulfilling substitute. Words and paper couldn't compare to the warmth of a body, or the sound of the softly lilting whirlpool accent.

"I'm glad you're finally back, Minato," she said to the collar of his shirt.

"Don't stay out too late, Kushina."

Her hand pressed to his chest gratefully and then slid away as she moved past him. He doubted she had any actual errands, but something he'd mentioned had spooked disturbed her and he recognised her need to escape. He guiltily listened to her footsteps receding down the stairs, and when he heard the front door pull close he turned to regard his unmade bed with consternation.

Eventually he made the sheets lie flat and crawled in between them. The effort was enough that even if he hadn't been exhausted before, he certainly was now. With only a few fleeting thoughts for Kumo and Iwa and Jinchuuriki and Kushina and her bed, he closed his eyes and slept, unaware that his girlfriend had made it no further than the porch of their house and now sat on the steps staring up at the distant friendless moon with wet eyes and a growing unease in her heart.

* * *

TBC


	22. Sakumo's Mistake

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twenty-Two: Sakumo's Mistake

* * *

After the bell rung it was only a matter of seconds before the stampede of little feet belted out of the academy doors into the sunlit yard where their parents waited for them. Tattered art projects were presented triumphantly to approving coos and some magnificent injuries sustained during a typical day's training were shown off with equal pride. A lot of the children hung back, waiting to see an adult they belonged to before plunging into the crowd, while plenty more just scampered off into the streets, evidently belonging to no one. A long time ago, Minato would have been one of the latter, although it was hard imagining he had ever been that small and scrawny looking.

Kushina would have said it was only last week.

The larger groups of kids that passed him had a tendency to cease all conversation as they drew near and stare at him blankly as they shuffled by before bursting into animated chatter the moment they were comfortably out of reach. They were the shy ones. The bold ones simply ran right up to him, demanding to know what he was up to and if he would share the prized secret of his jutsu with them.

The answer to that was always, "I'm only here for Hatake Kakashi."

Parents and children dispersed and the schoolyard gradually emptied. A couple of kids remained standing around, waiting for parents who were unconscionably late. A scattered handful continued to trickle out through the doors – the ones who were slow to pack their bags and lace their shoes. One with dark hair and thick goggles ambled past blithely, late to leave and obviously not expecting anyone to meet him, which was odd for a child of the Uchiha clan.

"Obito," Minato called out to the boy, making him jump. It wasn't like he'd been skulking in shadows trying to frighten unwitting children but perhaps those goggles obscured his peripheral vision.

"M-Me?" The young boy stammered, unable to understand why a legend was addressing him. Minato didn't remember names well, but Obito had stuck out in his head for no reason he could think of – except that his bumbling and assertive self reminded him strongly of Kushina, and Minato was known to have an inexplicable fondness for idiots. "I haven't done anything!"

"Have you seen Kakashi around?" he asked the guilty-looking boy.

"Kakashi?" Obito pulled a face as he hitched his backpack more securely over one shoulder. "Didn't see him leave the classroom. He's bragging to everyone that you're mentoring him. Is that true?"

"Not yet," Minato told him honestly.

Obito pumped the air with savage satisfaction. "I knew it – that Kakashi is such a liar!"

"So he's still in the classroom?"

"Yeah, I don't know. Probably."

With that ringing certainty, Minato gave up waiting around and headed inside the academy, giving Obito a pat on the head as he passed (who would then refuse to wash his hair for the next three weeks).

Not much had changed about the interior of the academy since he'd last set foot there for the chunin exams. The same walls still needed repainting, the teachers' lounge still stunk of coffee and cigarettes, and the coat hooks were still covered in decades of stickers and glitter and ink and anything else kids used to personalize their tiny bit of property. The only things that had really changed were the children's arts and crafts that covered the walls. Another generation, another art project. Minato walked past a wall that was now hidden under a collection of masterpieces denoting what the artists wanted to be when they grew up. The whole class apparently wanted to be the Hokage. Except that one kid who'd drawn some kind of man made of ice cream.

Kakashi's classroom was 2B, though Minato didn't know that until he passed by the door and noticed the small figure within, whittling away at the surface of his desk with a compass. His back was to the door so Minato took the opportunity to silently creep inside and up behind the boy.

"Guess who," he said, clapping his eyes over Kakashi's eyes.

"Oh," said the boy, with all the gloominess an eight year old could muster. "It's you."

That was unusually lackadaisical, even for Kakashi. "Don't tell me you're in detention."

"No," was Kakashi's despondent reply. "I'm not in detention."

"Then you're here because…?"

"I'm waiting for Dad to pick me up."

Ah. Minato sat down on the edge of one of the desks, hands deep in his pockets. "He's not back from his mission yet, Kakashi-kun," he reminded him. "That's why I'm picking you up. Again."

"I'm not going to Mrs. Takahashi," Kakashi said staunchly, speaking of the neighbour who Minato usually dropped him off with. "Her house smells of flu. Dad was supposed to be back three days ago, and we were supposed to go training."

"You know how these missions sometimes run on, but he'll be back soon," Minato reassured him. "You can't stay here forever."

"Can." Kakashi hooked his feet around the legs of his chair in case Minato might try to bodily carry him away. "Why can't you look after me? Why do I have to go to _her_ house?"

"Because I have my own work to do."

"What work? When are you going to start teaching me?"

"When you're a little older?"

"Anko already has one of the sannin teaching her, and she's younger than I am!"

"Would you like Orochimaru to mentor you?"

Kakashi suddenly went very still and very white.

"Well, there you go." Minato folded his arms. "It's up to your father anyway and when he decides you're ready."

With a sad sigh, Kakashi dropped his chin onto the desk. "I'm ready _now_," he whined.

Minato took pity on him. "I know. I'll talk it over with your father when he gets back."

"If he ever gets back."

"Of course he will."

"And you'll forget."

"I won't forget."

"And I can look after myself. I'm not a baby. I bet your dad never forced you to be babysat at my age."

"Well, no," Minato admitted, but didn't add that this was because his father never cared where he was or what he was up to. He'd had a spectacularly free childhood in that sense, and Jiraiya had always provided him with all the attention and affection one needed from a male role model. He had never considered himself a deprived child, and if he was neglected he'd never felt as if he'd suffered for it. But in retrospect he wouldn't have minded being babied to death if it meant having a father like Hatake Sakumo who cared as deeply as he did. And who spoilt him rotten.

"Wait… you don't know who your dad is, do you?" Kakashi asked.

How blunt. "Who told you that?"

"Kushina. Except," he said, slowing down as his brain caught up with his mouth, "she said I probably shouldn't mention that to you."

"Oops," Minato agreed with a soft laugh. "Don't worry about it. I won't tell her you mentioned it."

"I know your Mom though. She was real pretty."

"You've seen my mother?" Minato asked uncertainly, because Kakashi was _way_ too young to be viewing the kind of pin-ups she appeared in.

"Yeah, she's right over there." Kakashi pointed a finger towards the back of the classroom.

There was only the last row of desks and the wall behind them as far as Minato could tell, but Kakashi was quite insistent. He unshackled his feet from his chair and went to the back wall to clamber up onto the set of cabinets there and point out something pinned to the wall. Minato followed curiously.

Photos. Lots of photos, and most appeared to have resisted the fate most projects met when put up on a wall, which was to last perhaps one term or two before being dismantled into the recycling bin. Some of the photos were so old they were in black and white, and the one Kakashi was pointing to lay somewhere in the transition between sepia and full colour.

"These are all the teams that graduated from this class," Kakashi explained to him. "That's your mom, right? She looks just like you."

Minato would have agreed, but at that moment he was struck speechless. He'd never seen a picture of his mother when she was a fresh genin, and the resemblance between this photo and Minato's own graduation picture taken at the same age was unmistakable, bordering on uncanny. From the cut of her hair that was only slightly longer than his had been, to her mild smile and off-centre posture, Minato recognized her because he saw the same things in the mirror every day.

No wonder people called him a pretty boy.

"You didn't know this was here?" asked Kakashi.

"No, but…" Minato glanced around the room, a memory stirring in the back of his brain that he'd long ago put out of mind. Wasn't it Sakumo who had told him he would find something in the academy, in one of the classrooms? Had he meant this one?

He looked once more to his mother's graduation picture, gaze roving across the people standing with her: another boy and a girl, all three lined up before their jonin teacher. The second girl was an Uchiha from the look of her, who bore a strong resemblance to what Mikoto would look like if she'd been born with the same aura of belligerence as someone like Ai. The boy standing between the two girls looked as if all the picture's colour had faded from his features, although he probably was just as pale as he looked. If Kushina had such problems with her fair skin that she needed an umbrella on the sunniest days, this guy probably slept in a coffin during daylight hours.

"Him and her don't get on," Kakashi continued, pointing at the bleached boy and the dark Uchiha.

"How'd you know?" Minato couldn't imagine he'd deciphered such a thing from the picture. Even the ugliest of rivals could look like charming friends in that split second between the photographer shouting "Smile!" and the flash going off. As far as he could tell this team looked no more or less closer than any other team on this wall.

"Dad told me. She's an Uchiha and he's a Senju. They didn't get on, like dogs and cats, always fighting. He was in the same graduating year as them, right, but I think he was in another class."

"I wonder what happened to them." He had occasionally entertained the thought that his mother had once had a team of close comrades who would maybe be able to tell him more about her than he'd ever learnt from his father. If he'd met either of these two before, they hadn't mentioned their relation to his mother, and he couldn't match their young faces to anyone he knew of.

"They're dead," Kakashi said matter-of-factly. "Most of the people on the wall are dead according to our teacher. They were all his students, right, so he's outlived them all and he says he's even going to outlive us probably."

"Cheery guy."

Kakashi thought for a moment. "Actually, I think he's quite sad."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

Minato looked at the picture one last time then smiled at Kakashi. "Time to go, I think."

"No," objected Kakashi, though he didn't physically resist Minato helping him down off the cabinet.

Minato shrugged helplessly. "You want me to leave you here? The teachers will kick you out soon, then what?"

"Then I'll go home. I can look after myself."

Of all the stubborn little mules... "You're only eight, Kakashi-kun-"

"Eight and a half!" Kakashi corrected.

"When I was eight and a half I always did what my elders told me to do," Minato said. He also went dumpster diving outside the community centre quite a lot for toys, but the less said about that, the better. The point was he now realised how horrifically unhygienic and dangerous that was and he knew better than to let another eight year old run free.

"But Mrs Takahashi makes me eat stale biscuits and watch TV."

"You love TV."

"She only has three channels and you can't see what's going on. It's horrible, I just sit there for hours trying to breathe through my mouth."

Minato had gone to war and faced more murderous opponents than he could count, and he'd faced them all without his resolve and confidence ever wavering. Now he looked into the beseeching little face of this little boy and found himself turning weak. No one liked stale biscuits and old people smell. Eight year olds with all the energy of a young sun had to find that kind of environment pretty stifling.

"If I take you home," Minato began, "do you promise not to cause trouble, not to break anything, to go to bed on time, and not set fire to yourself at any point?"

"Yes!" Kakashi agreed passionately.

"Alright then. Get your bags." If Sakumo ever found out about this he would be dead.

Kakashi was very agreeable after that, if not downright excited about the prospect of a night by himself. "Don't get too excited," Minato warned him as the kid virtually skipped down the pavement alongside him. "I'll make sure someone comes round to check on you. And if you're not in bed on time-"

"Yes, yes," chortled Kakashi.

It was a long walk back to the Hatake household, part of the reason Sakumo had demanded that his son be accompanied. Kakashi was cheerful most of the way, but as they got to Mrs Takahashi's house and Minato stopped to knock on the door and explain that there had been a change of plan, Kakashi hid behind her fence.

But at the final furlong as Kakashi's house came into view, it looked as if there would be another change of plan. Hatake Sakumo was back.

Minato's first gut reaction was relief – he wouldn't be accused of reckless endangerment if Kakashi would be with his father. However, he quickly realised all was not well. Sakumo was standing out on the porch, perhaps only just back from his mission by the look of his clothes, and before him stood Kushina. She looked more furious and fiery than he'd ever seen her. Kakashi made to dash forward in delight, but Minato grabbed the back of his shirt to slow him. This didn't look like a good moment to trample through.

"Just leave it alone, Kushina," he heard Sakumo say as they neared cautiously. He sounded unusually tired.

"I can't believe you!" She stared at him, fists clenched. "This is shameful!"

"There's nothing you can do."

"I'll give them a piece of my mind-!"

"That's the last thing I need."

Kushina banged the flat of her palm against the house wall. "You can't just accept this! Sensei!"

Sakumo shrugged heavily and turned, walking into the house without even the energy to slam the door in her face. Kushina didn't follow him. She stared glassily into space, breathing hard, and Minato knew her well enough to know this was a good time to evacuate the area. When Kushina looked like that it usually meant she was about to blow and you didn't want to be in the blast radius when that happened.

Suddenly she whirled and saw them. Both Minato and Kakashi jumped a little. Only one thought ran through Minato's mind. _Uh oh_.

But though she saw them, it was as if she hadn't really seen them at all. Storming down the porch steps and into the street, she blew past them without once showing a flicker of recognition. Wherever she was going now, she was single-minded with determination, and Minato could only pity whoever had incurred her wrath today.

With the tempest gone, Minato nudged Kakashi forward. "Come on," he said, "let's see your dad."

He'd left the door wide open, and Minato knocked on it politely as he passed inside. "Sakumo-sensei?" he called. Then he stopped. Sakumo had only gotten a few feet into the house and now he was leaning against the wall in the hallway, back to the door.

"Dad!" Kakashi ran forward to drag on his father's hand. "You didn't pick me up!"

Sakumo took far too long to notice his son, Minato felt, and when he looked down at Kakashi it was with a strange blinking bemusement as if he'd forgotten who this child was. "Not now, Son."

"What did you do to make Kushina so angry, Dad-"

"Kakashi, go to your room."

Kakashi reeled back as if he'd been smacked. Perhaps he'd never been told to go to his room before, or he just didn't understand what he'd done wrong. Minato didn't understand either for that matter. "But – why?"

"Just for a little bit." Sakumo's voice lacked any kind of anger or reproach. It lacked pretty much anything else too. Kakashi glanced back at Minato with a conflicted expression that clearly said his planned evening had been ruined by his father's return and the funny mood he'd brought back with him. Minato raised an eyebrow. Perhaps he might have preferred the house that smelt like flu more?

Kakashi's plodding footsteps retreated up the stairs and a moment later his bedroom door slammed shut with deliberate relish.

"Is everything alright?" Minato asked. He'd never seen the other jonin like this, and when Sakumo's gaze wandered over to Minato and he smiled faintly, it was a peculiarly empty expression.

"It's nothing. But perhaps you can do me a favour? Go after Kushina and stop her. Her heart's in the right place but she'll only make matters worse."

This didn't sound like 'nothing' to Minato. He searched Sakumo's face for an answer, but all he saw was a bone-deep weariness that didn't suit him. "How was your mission?" he asked quietly.

As the person who had uncovered the original intel, he was one of only a few who were privy to what Hatake Sakumo had been up to for the last few weeks and just how vitally important his mission was. Sabotaging relations between Iwa and Kumo was no easy feat, and potentially the future of Konoha was at stake. There were not many missions where so much hung on the line, but if anyone could do it, it was Sakumo

And when he stared at Minato with hollow eyes, a horrible twisting feeling began in Minato's gut.

"I have to wash," Sakumo said, gesturing to the old, brown blood splashed across his tunic. "Please excuse me."

He turned and began to make his way up the stairs, not even appearing to notice Kakashi ducking out of sight behind a corner.

Nothing about this felt right. Minato backed out the house quickly and set off in the same direction he'd seen Kushina leave in. Perhaps before he carried out Sakumo's request to stop her he could ask her just what the hell was going on. He knew a failed mission when he saw one – he'd seen that fatigued and emotionally drained expression before – he'd _felt_ it, certainly – but something more was going on here.

Tracking Kushina led him towards the centre of the town. It was easy to stop and ask people which way she'd gone; everyone remembered the red-headed beauty, especially when she was in a temper. Minato didn't have to search particularly hard. It was only a matter of time before he spotted the gathering crowd at the base of the Hokage tower and he headed towards it with a resigned sigh, that anxious twisting in his stomach becoming a fully fledged attack of knots. The crowd wasn't thick yet but as he approached it more people were stopping to rubberneck... and Minato realised when he pushed his way – _politely_ – through them to see what was going on.

Kushina had, in typical fashion, picked a fight. Minato didn't know whether to be amused or horrified that she had picked an opponent twice her size backed up by ten friends just as big or bigger. It had not come to blows... yet. Kushina didn't seem at all intimidated by the fact that she barely came up to his chin and had to crane her neck as she jabbed her finger accusingly at him.

"You have no right!" he heard her shouting. "You had no right to do that to him!"

"You weren't even there!" the other ninja shouted back, turning steadily red from either anger or embarrassment at the crowd they'd drawn.

"I didn't have to be there! He's twice the man you are and ten times the ninja! Compared to him you're a slug that even some academy brat could chew up and spit out without breaking a sweat! He saved your lives and this is how you repay him! You should be crawling to him for forgiveness! Instead you stab him in the back, you pathetic lowlifes!"

One had to admire just how naturally confrontation came to Kushina. She never lost her determination or focus, and the way insults rolled off her tongue made it look easy. In her hands, it was an art-form. That was why Minato and dozens of others had stopped to mutely watch the exchange.

"It's done!" The ninja attempted to move around her but she always stepped sideways and blocked him whatever he tried to do.

"You coward, you won't ever face me! You can sneak behind a man's back and destroy his career, but you can't look me in the eye!"

"He's destroyed this village! We did what we had to-"

"Take that back! Take it back or I'll tear that tongue right out-"

Another member of the gang behind the first ninja cut her off. "Why don't you go back to your own shitty little village and leave Konoha matters to own people? You don't belong here anyway!"

Kushina threw herself into the mob, fingers flashing like claws in search of the speaker. "Why don't you come over here and say that you freak!" She was jostled back easily with jeers.

"Yeah, he's a real great man, sending a little girl to fight his battles for him," one of them remarked.

There was an almighty crack and suddenly the speaker was falling back on the floor, blood pouring from a spit lip. "Call me a 'little girl' again and the next thing I split open is your skull!"

The original man she'd been arguing with reached for her, face twisted with fury. "You – bitch-!" He caught her by the collar of her tunic and raised his fist.

"Enough." Minato cleaved between them, firmly pushing them apart as he headed for the fallen ninja to help him to his feet. "I think you're missing a tooth, sir. Perhaps everyone can take a moment to have a look for it and watch they don't step on it?"

The riled gang of ninja were suddenly transformed into a bemused herd of men shuffling around with their eyes to the ground, looking for a lost tooth. The crowd that had gathered saw the confrontation was over and quickly lost interest, drifting on their way like they'd never been sidetracked. Only Kushina was immune to such deflection. Collar rumpled, she stood glaring at Minato's back, trembling with pent up rage.

"Ah, here it is!"Minato called cheerfully, picking up a bloody premolar. Handing it back to its owner he said, "Perhaps you should go to the hospital before you lose any more blood."

"No thanks to your girlfriend," he lisped sullenly.

"Perhaps next time you'll think twice before insulting Uzumaki Kushina?" Minato's smile didn't waver, but something in his tone let the other ninja know Minato was definitely _not_ on his side here.

The gang dispersed, shooting filthy looks at Kushina who returned them all twice as fiercely. There were bloody marks on the knuckles of her right hand, and Minato reached for it to see if it was her blood or just that of the poor man she'd sucker-punched – the second he touched her she jerked away, turning her glare on him. "Don't you get me started! You shouldn't have interfered!"

"I just saved you from a brawl," he pointed out. "Why don't you calm down and-"

"Calm is the last thing I need right now! People need to see exactly what kind of cowards they are!"

"I don't know..." Minato scratched his head. "To try and take you on when there's _only_ twelve of them seems pretty brave to me."

Before he could ask her just what it was they'd been arguing about, she turned and stalked away, heading for the entrance of the Hokage tower. Minato had a bad feeling about that. He quickly sped after her, but every attempt he made to slow her down she brushed off like he was nothing but a pesky fly. She marched up the flights of stairs without pause to the top floor and ignored the aide who leapt out from behind his desk at her appearance.

"The Hokage is in a meeting," he said to Kushina as she swept past him. "You're not allowed to disturb-"

"Bite me!" she snarled, and Minato apologised in her wake.

'Stop her' Sakumo had said. Minato might have had more success at stopping the flight of a canon ball with his soft, squishy body. He knew at this point he really should have retreated in order to dissociate himself from whatever hell was about to break loose, but on some level he knew that while Kushina was being irrational and crazy, his irrational and crazy girlfriend was right. He'd seen Sakumo, and he'd seen the guilt on those men's faces. Now he wanted to know what the hell was going on.

The Hokage didn't even look surprised when Kushina burst through the door like a focused tornado. Minato balked at the idea of crashing the Hokage's private meeting, but it looked as if Sarutobi had expected this. He dismissed his ANBU agents with a wave of the hand and looked at Minato. "Shut the door, if you'd be so kind."

Minato obeyed. He made sure he was on the inside of the office when the doors closed, however. He wasn't going to miss this.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Kushina began, her tone no different with the leader of Konoha than it had been with the 'pathetic lowlifes' downstairs. "You can't do this to him."

"Nothing has been decided yet," said the Hokage firmly.

"Forty years he's served your village and he makes _one_ mistake-!"

It was always a bad sign when Kushina abdicated citizenship of Konoha. Last time it had happened, she'd run away and put the village in a state of high alert.

"It's a mistake that may have cost us the war before it's even begun." The Hokage plucked off his hat and dropped it on his desk with a sigh. His head looked very different without it. "The Daimyo and his council are already demanding accountability and the dust hasn't even settled yet – do you understand how dire this situation is, Kushina?"

"Punishing Sensei won't fix anything!" she protested.

"No, but some very powerful people will be satisfied," he said heavily. "And with the way things are, we may need to distance ourselves from him. Make it look as if he was acting alone. I can't be seen to do nothing."

"And_ he_ pays so you can save face?"

"Nothing has been decided yet," the Hokage stressed once again.

"Er..." hedged Minato, reminding the other occupants of this room that he was also there. "Hokage-sama, I'm not sure I understand. Has Sakumo-sensei's mission failed?"

The Hokage laughed humourlessly. "Failed? If only. It's been a complete disaster."

"What happened?"

Before he could explain, Kushina beat the Hokage to the draw. "Sensei only went and saved the lives of everyone on his team. Where I come from, he'd be considered a hero, but apparently here people don't take kindly to that sort of thing." She glared at Minato like it was his fault. "Am I wrong? Isn't this exactly what he's been decorated for at least five times?"

"It's not that simple, Kushina, and you know it," the Hokage said shortly. "Of course I understand your feelings, but this was not a mission that could risk failure. Sakumo... he saved his team directly at the cost of the mission. Honourable, yes, but so short-sighted. They all knew going into that mission that if necessary the mission came before their lives. Sakumo of all people should have remembered."

"He doesn't deserve to be stripped of his rank!" Kushina exploded.

"It may not come to that," the Hokage admitted, "but people are angry. He saved twelve lives but his actions may ultimately cost us hundreds. Even his team is upset."

"Yes, we saw," Minato said darkly.

"Yes, I saw too." The Hokage cast Kushina he special Dirty Hippy look. "And I'll thank you not to pick fights in the street, young lady. If Minato hadn't interfered who knows what would have happened to you."

Kushina folded her arms tightly. "I can look after myself."

"That's beside the point. Have you forgotten everything Biwako taught you? The last thing I need is you losing control over this." He sighed and leant forward to consider the hat on his desk. "Perhaps you should go home and cool off. Things will get better, I'm sure, once people realise it's not the end of the world. Sakumo will need you by his side in the coming days, however, more than I need you biting my head off."

Her tongue clicked in annoyance, but her temper had cooled enough to perhaps realise she had been shouting at a Kage for the last few minutes. The Hokage had been awfully patient considering, but finally his hint for her to leave got through. Her bow was short and her apology was too terse to sound genuine. She stalked out and Minato moved to follow her, but the Hokage called him back. "I wanted to talk to you, while I have the chance."

Minato was thirteen years old again, wondering if he was in trouble. Kushina looked as if she wondering the same thing, and she closed the door after her with a long suspicious look at him.

"I'm sorry about Kushina," Minato said to the Hokage once she had gone. "She's... a red-head."

"Quite." This seemed to explain everything. "No, this isn't about her. I just thought it was prudent that you understand the details of Sakumo's mission, considering how involved you are already."

"Thank you, sir."

"Well, as you know the plan was to disrupt the bijuu exchange between Iwa and Kumo and sew some mistrust, if not outright break their alliance. Unfortunately," the Hokage heaved a deep sigh, "as events have unfolded, the bijuu exchange was successful, Iwa and Kumo's alliance is stronger than ever... more so after our plot was discovered."

"How did it happen?" minato asked, frowning. "It seems hard to believe Sakumo could do anything so bad to deserve what I'm hearing."

"Hatake Sakumo is one of our greatest fighters and strategists... anyone could have made that miscalculation certainly. Some of the information you gathered was out of date and the implantation of the bijuu did not take place when and where they thought it would, and they arrived too late to stop it. So they decided to stage an attack on the Iwa group as they travelled back to the earth country and do so posing as Kumo nin while simultaneously Sakumo was to infiltrate Kumo, posing as an Iwa nin, and attempt to steal their secrets of sealing bijuu into people. It was an elegant plan. If they'd pulled it off, Iwa would be accusing Kumo of betrayal, and Kumo would be accusing Iwa of theft, and possibly we may have gained some valuable sealing techniques in the process."

Minato thought Kumo could keep their techniques for turning people into monsters to themselves. Perhaps the Hokage only wanted those secrets for the value of knowledge for the sake of knowledge rather than because he wanted to use them. The village already faced enough threat from other villages without adding more volatile jinchuuriki to the mixture.

"It sounds like a good plan," he said to the Hokage. "What went wrong with it?"

"What went right?" retorted the older man. "His team was only to engage in a skirmish with the Iwa group as they transported their new jinchuuriki back to their village. They'd been lead to believe it would remain dormant, but when they attacked the group... it awoke."

"Oh," said Minato.

"Sakumo abandoned his position to aid them. By the time he got there, the Jinchuuriki had killed half its own people and the remainder of Sakumo's team was pinned. Sakumo got them out, but... Iwa had followed him. Their cover was ruined and they had to flee."

"But that's not his fault," Minato insisted.

"No, but it's likely that if he'd stuck to the plan, Iwa wouldn't have traced him and the jinchuuriki would have been lost to the wilds."

"His whole team would have been slaughtered by that creature," Minato pointed out, horrified.

"And perversely he would have been congratulated if he'd permitted it." He didn't have to tell the Hokage that it was wrong - he could see it sat unpleasantly in the old man's mouth. "Between you and me, I would have done exactly the same thing in his position. But there's no denying what kind of trouble his failure has unleashed on this village. I'm sure his men will come around, but they lost some friends on this mission and they were prepared to lose themselves too. They're young. Too wrapped up in the nobility of martyrdom to appreciate what Sakumo did for them. I hope he doesn't take it too hard but... knowing Sakumo... he has a habit of letting things get to him more than they ought."

The Hokage lapsed into silence, staring across the room over Minato's shoulder, his thoughts shifting to another place that could have been too personal to share. Minato waited, and eventually his gaze shifted back to him. "I would be grateful if you could cool Kushina down a little. Her passionate defence warms the heart, but it's not going to help her Sensei."

"I understand." Although why anyone thought he was capable of controlling Kushina was beyond him. But then if the Hokage had told him to go stop a tsunami with his sword he would have answered the same way.

As if reading his thoughts, the Hokage said, "She listens to you. God knows no one else in this village has that privilege. And perhaps I too should have listened to you..."

Minato tilted his head uncertainly. "Hokage-sama?"

"I've been thinking about what you said about these abductions. I doubt it would do much to redeem ourselves in the eyes of our enemies at this point, but perhaps that's not important. We have a moral obligation to ourselves and to innocents. And sometimes, in my position, you get too caught up looking at the big picture that it becomes easy and convenient to ignore the quiet cries of those who need help the most. It usually means one has been in power too long."

"Hokage-sama, I doubt-"

"Don't doubt too quickly," the Hokage interrupted, holding up his hand. "What I'm trying to say is that an old man like myself needs a kick from an incorrigibly idealistic youth like yourself. And possibly what this village needs is just the same. If you... catch my drift."

"I don't understand," Minato said honestly. Did he want Minato to kick him?

"I'll be frank, Minato. I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow we start seeing Iwa and Kumo nin creeping across the border, and at times like this Konoha needs strong, _secure_ leadership. If anything were to happen to me, my successor would need to be not only an inspirational warrior, but be able to unite the village behind him and reassure the people that he can do the job."

Minato's palms tingled. "Uh..."

"I had planned on officially appointing my student, Orochimaru, as my replacement." The Hokage rubbed his fingers over his brow grimly. "He's a brilliant young man... in many ways he puts you and I to shame with his genius, but I know he's hardly one to gather friends. If he were to become Hokage he would divide loyalties and I fear he is not the kind of man who would for a minute suggest we continue searching for a killer targeting our enemies. In fact he fought so hard against the idea that I'm certain now he is not the man this village needs."

"And you think... I am?" Minato all but squeaked.

"I have no plans on expiring just yet," said the Hokage sternly, "and you are still far too young for my liking so I'll continue dodging my coffin until I think you're ready. In the mean time, you can busy yourself looking for this phantom you're so obsessed with. If you can catch him I'll know you're the right choice... I'll consider considering possibly announcing you as my successor."

Minato blinked. "Oh." _What did that even mean?_

"Oh?" the Hokage repeated. "Is that all you have to say?"

"I don't know what to say."

"How about, 'thank you, Hokage-sama'?"

"Thank you, Hokage-sama."

"'I am honoured, Hokage-sama.'"

"I am honoured, Hokage-sama."

"'I'll be leaving now, Hokage-sama.'"

"I'll be – ah, yes." Minato flushed and bowed deeply. "Thank you. I won't disappoint you."

Sarutobi's smile was weak, but a miracle considering the sort of disasters that must have been weighing on him. "I would be surprised if you did."

* * *

Afterwards, Minato wandered the streets of Konoha in a state of shell shock. This was probably what some would call the most momentous occasion of his life and he had no idea who to tell. Kushina was too worried about her Sensei's tattered reputation that she probably wouldn't care if he'd been announced king of the world right now. Jiraiya would want to know – in fact he'd probably want to be the first to know, but the news would have to wait until he returned from his reconnaissance mission. The Hokage wouldn't take kindly to him shouting it from the rooftops, so Minato kept walking in aimless circles until his feelings on the matter were securely bottled up inside. He still wasn't sure if what he felt was joy or anxiety. He was definitely filled with a sudden nostalgia for the quiet simplicity of his old outpost where his role as leader had consisted of organising the roster, considering empty maps, and occasionally getting kidnapped.

But if he'd wanted to become Hokage ever since he was a chunin so as to bring an end to the endless wars and exact some control over his own fate... what was the problem?

Well, there was still plenty of time to worry about it later. He was sure once the Hokage considered considering it he'd realise what a mistake it was, especially when word got out and everyone from school teachers to council elders would be balking and asking 'Are you mad? He's barely old enough to drink let alone lead!'. Until then, Minato was just grateful that he'd been given a second chance to track down the abductor. Perhaps this time he would make a damn difference.

And that was how he happened to find himself outside Orochimaru's lab that evening. The daylight was fading and the streets were emptying when he knocked on the door. It seemed to make sense to him, that the first place to restart an investigation was to pick up where it had left off. Orochimaru was the one who had closed the case and perhaps he'd found things out after it had been taken out of Minato's hands, even if he had come to the wrong conclusion.

But the lab was dark and silent and no one was responding to Minato's knocks. Absently he tried the handle and was a little surprised that the door clicked open, unlocked. He debated for a moment whether he should just leave and try again tomorrow or invite himself inside in case Orochimaru was simply too absorbed in an experiment to have heard the door. The latter was risky... but on the upside, maybe he could find what he needed and leave without having to face the creepy, effete vampire.

A day in which Minato did not have to see that guy could only be described as a good day. With a covert scan of the street that probably made him look far more suspicious than he did already, Minato slipped inside.

It was just as perturbing as the last time he'd been here, except Orochimaru seemed to have added to his collection of jarred animal foetuses. Minato suppressed a shudder. He had to drag his gaze away deliberately – what he wanted was information, not nightmares. He scoped the lab, trying to ignore the bloodstains on the tables (Was he still dissecting monkeys? For science or for pleasure?) and casting a slightly more inquisitive eye over a row of test-tubes filled with earth and little seedlings in different stages of development. He had a bad feeling about the cage of chirruping guinea pigs. He doubted Orochimaru kept them because he thought they were cute...

The end of the lab seemed like a more likely place to search; that was where a long countertop inundated with mounds of papers and binders lay beneath groaning shelves of references and books. Minato approached cautiously, feeling a little like he was back in Kusanagi's office. This was definitely harder though. Back then he had been looking for anything and everything he could get his hands on, while here he had something very specific in mind and no knowledge of Orochimaru's key to filing... _if_ he had any sort of system. Not to mention Kusanagi's office had been defended by one lone exploding tag. One quick glance around Orochimaru's desks revealed all kinds of traps and wards.

Some were basic. Minato recognised a faint line of pencil had been drawn across four sheets of overlapping paper. If one were to pick them up to read them without realising, the line would be broken and presumably Orochimaru would know someone had been rifling through his research. Other traps were a little more sophisticated – he noticed a hidden ink jutsu embedded in the spines of the books above his head. He knew if he was to grab one of those it wouldn't matter if he put them all back in exactly the same place – they would leave permanent ink on his hands that would take weeks to fade.

Someone who had gone to such paranoid lengths to protect his research had almost certainly memorised his workspace more than Minato could possibly guess. There were no traps on the journal lying open on an old box, but knowing Orochimaru he would be able to tell if Minato so much as touched a page.

He leaned over and scanned the open page, mostly out of mild curious to see what his handwriting was like.

_...all five test samples expired today. The venom of _Juugo_ is potent..._

_...removing tissue leads to regeneration and age regression in the original subject... must obtain more test subjects..._

_...gene-splicing survival rate: still 0%_

_...spontaneous hair loss in 7/10 subjects..._

_...need more guinea pigs..._

"Creepy..." Minato sighed, losing interest. He stepped back, confounded with the volume of documents presented to him. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for and despite the fact that he had basically broken into this lab, he was not so without honour that he was really going to go pawing through Orochimaru's privacy.

He would have to come back tomorrow and-

_What was that noise?_

Minato went still, lifting his head to listen. A tap at the other end of the lab was slowly dripping into a sink, though he didn't think that was what he'd heard. The guinea pigs were rustling around on their newspaper, eating straw, but Minato had tuned out their noises for a while now. Something else had registered for a moment there, so quiet that he wondered if he'd imagined it. And if he was going to start having auditory hallucinations, where else would they start but in a lab full of dead animals?

_There it was again._

Too faint to identify, but definitely real, even if he sensed it rather than heard it. He might have been wrong to assume the lab was empty, because he was almost certain the noises were coming from that door over there. Minato remembered the blood bank on the other side that Orochimaru had showed to him once. Was he in there now?

"Hello?" Minato called with trepidation as he cracked open the door and peered in. He was met with the low, steady hum of a small room full of refrigerators, each one containing hundreds of bottles of blood. There was no room for anyone to hide here and since he didn't see Orochimaru skulking around anywhere, he had to assume he was mistaken. Perhaps he'd heard one of the fridge motors ticking over or something?

But now he was here he couldn't resist the curiosity of seeking out the fridge labelled N1. The bottle of blood named Namikaze Midoriko was exactly where he'd last seen it, and Minato stood staring at it, wondering why this little vial commanded his attention so much when he'd gone through life ignoring every image of her. He had never been left doubting what she looked like – from the time he was old enough to read he'd been assailed with images of past heroes, plenty of which included his own mother. Magazines, calendars, books, especially the retro bingo books, there wasn't a single picture of his mother that he hadn't had to share with the rest of the world, and perhaps that was why they'd never interested him.

The photo Kakashi had shown him had caught him off guard. Here at least had been one image of his mother than hadn't been reprinted and exploited and copied into a hundred different hands, showing her as the person she was and not what the village had made her. Likewise this little sample of her blood was something real... a little piece of his mother that remained on earth, and so vivid and red it could have been fresh, even if he knew perfectly well she'd died twenty years ago and the rest of her was now just dry ash and bone. Hard to imagine she'd ever existed.

And was it annoyance or sentimentality that he felt when he realised that a second bottle had been placed beside hers... this one labelled 'Namikaze Minato'.

He was debating whether or not to reach in and take it back – Orochimaru had clearly never upheld his promise to search for a paternal DNA match – when he froze once more. As a fine prickling tremor ran up the back of his neck he knew for sure he wasn't imagining that noise. It was back, and closer... and if he didn't know any better he would have described it as a scream.

He looked over his shoulder at the old rusted door at the far end of the room. Enormous bolts sealed it shut – the only part of the door that looked new and properly maintained. It looked like something straight out of a ship, designed to be watertight or even airtight, although what purpose it served here, Minato had no idea. He just knew that someone or something was trapped behind it and it made his skin scrawl.

Curiosity was said to kill cats, but Minato felt he was a sufficiently swift enough cat to take the risk. He approached the door to investigate the locking mechanism and reached for the first bolt –

A cold, white hand snapped over his. He jerked around to come face to face with the pale, lipless fury of an androgynous sannin.

"Oh, hello," Minato blurted in panic.

"What are you doing here?" Orochimaru demanded, his voice as soft and icy as his skin looked. "You were not invited."

"I was looking for you," Minato replied, horribly pinned. Orochimaru was still gripping his hand and between him and the door there wasn't much room. "I heard a noise and thought you might be through here."

The sannin's eyes narrowed to near slits. "Evidently I was not."

"Evidently," Minato agreed, eyes flicking sideways in search of an escape route. "So what's back there?"

"Experiments." Orochimaru was close enough that his breath fanned across Minato's face... and it was as cold and strangely odourless as the rest of him. "That's where I keep the larger animals for testing... apes and the like. They're very dangerous and very sensitive to being disturbed. It would be a shame if you blundered in there by mistake and something awful happened to you."

"Is that legal?" Minato wondered, not for the first time.

"Oh, yes. Would you like to see them?"

Another faint moaning shriek rose and fell and Minato swallowed. It certainly sounded like an animal, and one in deep distress. Perhaps after he left he would send an anonymous report to the animal cruelty authorities. More importantly, he was a little worried that if he took Orochimaru up on his offer he might just end up being fed to whatever was down there. "Maybe some other time," Minato said, recovering his hand and sliding out from between Orochimaru and the door. "I only came to ask you if there was any more information on that old abduction case that you'd be willing to share."

"Ah, yes." A smile slithered across Orochimaru's face. "But since dear Sensei has found my investigation and my methods deficient, what do you suppose you can glean from a failure like myself?"

Minato didn't know what to say to that kind of blatant bitterness. The Hokage must already have informed him that he was no longer his preferred successor. "I just wanted to know if you'd learned anything that would help," he repeated.

"I'm humbled the Great Yellow Flash would come to me, a mere sannin, for help," Orochimaru bowed his head reverently.

"Yeah, well... no hard feelings," Minato mumbled.

"Of course, not. Who can blame dear Sensei, after all. Senile dementia does creep up on one, does it not?" Orochimaru tapped a long, white finger against his gaunt cheek. "Are you sure you don't want to see my experiments?"

"Quite sure," he replied quickly. "Is there _nothing_ you can tell me about the abductor?"

"Nothing I'm sure a bright little boy like you couldn't figure out all by yourself," simpered the sannin. "For instance, I'm sure you already figured out that the abductor uses a jutsu to animate the dead, a very rare and forbidden type of jutsu that only a handful of people have ever mastered, and if one hoped to find the one responsible for this _atrocity_ one would begin by looking for people capable of such power and where they got it from."

Minato considered this carefully. "I see."

"But as I've been told, my ideas are worthless. Do with it what you will."

"Thank you. No, that's pretty helpful," Minato began backing away. "I'll bear it in mind."

"And _do_ visit again soon, Minato-kun," Orochimaru called softly. "Although please refrain from breaking and entering next time."

"Right..."

Minato was glad to escape the lab. Outside in the cool evening he felt like he was finally able to draw breath again, away from the smell of death and ammonia. Orochimaru didn't seem to be in a particularly generous mood right now, but his advice was probably sound, whether he'd intended it to help or not. Corpse animation was not exactly on the academy curriculum, so whoever could perform such a thing had to be incredibly powerful and in all likeliness had access to some very dubious educational materials. And those kinds of materials weren't easy to come by.

He sighed and headed homewards, mind overflowing with thoughts of forbidden jutsu, gangs of men with bad attitudes and split lips, and even the Hokage's hat. Would that thing even fit his head? He'd never really been a hat person to begin with...

But he was getting ahead of himself.

So absorbed with these kinds of thoughts, he nearly walked straight past Kushina without seeing her. It was only when her head moved and the sheet of hair falling down her back caught the beam of a streetlight with a red flash that he realised she was there on the bridge. She was sitting on the boards, legs dangling over the side with her arms resting on the lowest rail and her chin resting on her arms.

"I thought you'd be with Sakumo," Minato said as he drew nearer.

"He's not opening the door," she responded glumly. "I guess he wants to be alone right now."

"He's taking it pretty hard then?"

"I'd say so, yes."

"Don't worry. That guy's as hard as nails," he reassured her. "He'll bounce back before you know it."

In the dim light she cast him a dubious frown. "Sakumo-sensei isn't as strong as you think," she said quietly. "Everyone thinks he's mean and heartless, but he's got the softest, kindest heart of anyone I know. It's really hurting him that his team turned on him and are demanding he be stripped of his rank."

Minato's sandals scrapped on the boards as he sat down beside her, his back to the rails and facing the other way. "If you want, we can still go beat some sense into them."

"No, you were right. It didn't help." She stared down into the inky water of the river. "I don't know how to help this time."

"Just give him time," he told her.

"I guess..." Her large eyes lifted to gaze into his for a moment, but he couldn't read the thoughts behind them. "Where've you been?"

"Fighting with a vampire," he said seriously.

"Oh," she nodded, just as seriously. "Did you win?"

"I think so." He thought for a moment. "Well, not really. Let's just say Orochimaru is difficult enough to talk to even when he's not taking it personally that you're taking over his failed assignments."

"You've got a new assignment?"

"An old one. Do you remember the abductions?"

Kushina looked at him sharply. "I thought the Hokage closed that one."

"He decided it wasn't solved after all."

"So..." she began, "if you're back on it, am I back on it?"

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You need a partner, right?"

"You're offering?"

"Why not?" she asked indignantly.

"You don't normally offer," he said.

"You don't normally ask either," she retorted. "I don't want to get in the way, so it's up to you. Do you want me or not?"

"I always want you," he promised, which may or may not have been a double entendre.

She took it as such and turned away quickly. "Good," she said, flustered. "It's just that with the war coming it seems like pretty soon we're going to get separated again... for god knows how long. I want to make sure we're treasuring our time together."

"By hunting down mass murderers? Most couples treasure their time together by going on dates."

"Boring," she declared.

"Or by staying in and..."

"And what?" she asked cagily, fidgeting with some peeling red paint on the wooden rail.

"And watching a movie? I don't know."

She snorted. "You're such a dope."

He copied her snort, because that always annoyed her. He was inclined to disagree with her assessment too – he knew exactly what couples usually got up to when they stayed in, and that for some reason they weren't one of those couples. She must have still been waiting for his hair to grow back to an acceptable length before she would contemplate making another excuse to sabotage his bed so he would have to share hers. It felt like since then there had been a brake on their relationship. Broaching the subject, however timidly or carefully, was met with the same kind of caginess he saw in her now.

It _had_ to be the hair... or else she'd found something even more disagreeable about him since he'd returned from the outpost that had put her off him. But since Kushina was normally very upfront about his faults and she hadn't raised any issue – such as his smell or his cold hands – he didn't know what to make of it. This was something he'd have to ask Jiraiya once he returned. Or better yet, someone else who actually knew something about women; like a woman. Maybe Mikoto would suffice?

For now, he steered the conversation away. "I'd be glad to have your help."

She grinned shyly, looking more pleased than she ought to at the thought of working with him. "Do you know who you're looking for, or...?"

"I've only got a vague idea of who might be behind this," he told her. "He probably lives in the fire country and maybe even Konoha. And all I know about him is that he's powerful, intelligent, and seems to know his way around professionally dissecting a body so maybe he has some medical background. He also has access to a certain kind of forbidden jutsu, so maybe if we trace the jutsu we'll find our guy."

"Or girl," Kushina piped up. At his blank expression she raised her eyebrows. "What, only men can be powerful and evil?"

"Of course not. You exist, don't you?"

She swore at him loudly, but when he only laughed she quickly moved on. "What else?"

"I don't know. He – or she – hasn't left many clues."

"I remember Ren said the bodies were being taken for experimentation, right?" She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "Sounds like you're dealing with a mad scientist if you ask me. Maybe he's taking all these ninja and cutting them up to make the perfect ninja?"

"This isn't one of your horror books," he reminded her.

"Yeah, whatever. My money's on Orochimaru," she said plainly, scratching her nose.

She had to be joking. "What? Why?"

"He seems the type."

"To chop people up and sew them together to make a perfect warrior? Come off it, Kushina. This is one of the sannin we're talking about – he's saved Konoha more times than I can count."

"He looks creepy, he's a scientist, he plays with dead things all day," she went on, ticking off her fingers. "And he keeps to himself which is the _most_ suspicious of all."

"He's an eccentric introvert," Minato corrected. "He's also the Hokage's student, Jiraiya looks up to him, and you can't fault him for the looks he was born with or for being a scientist. If you're looking for evil geniuses with questionable morals, go to the R&D department, you can't throw a pen in that place without hitting at least three mad scientists so it's not like he's the only one with dodgy hobbies. It's the ones you _least_ suspect that you have to look out for."

"You least suspect?" she echoed, flicking him a look. "It's not _you_, is it?"

He sighed. "It's not me."

"It's not me either, before you ask."

"Is that so?"

In silence she contemplated while Minato listlessly stared into the darkness, wondering if there was any point worrying about the size of the Hokage's hat. It was unlikely to ever sit on his head anyway.

"We'll get this guy, whoever he is," Kushina said, breaking into his thoughts. "We'll show the other villages that Konoha can work to protect them as well as us. Maybe that will get them to stop and listen."

"You really think that?" he asked. This mission was important to him because too many lives had been lost already and it didn't matter what village they belonged to. Nobody deserved that fate. But Minato was harbouring no illusions that bringing the killer to justice would fix the broken relations between the villages. At most, they could make sure no one else had to be taken.

"I want to believe it," she mumbled quietly. "I don't want Sensei to take the blame if it all... because of his mission..."

"Single-handedly stopping a war and salvaging Hatake Sakumo's reputation is a tall order," he commented. "I'm _definitely_ going to need your help."

She smiled and curled her fingers around his. "Thanks, Minato."

* * *

TBC


	23. The Temple of Fire

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Temple of Fire

* * *

He didn't know what Kushina had expected when she'd offered to partner with him on this mission, but it was clear that it wasn't this. When he'd first mentioned the need for research, an expression had come over her face like he'd just suggested they take a bath in sludge. When he'd added that the library would be a good place to start, her eyes had glazed over and had been like that ever since, and though she'd followed him without complaint it was clear that she would rather be somewhere else.

Minato quite liked being in the farthest wings of the library, where the oldest books and scrolls were kept. It was dry, warm, and smelled of aged leather and parchment, quiet, but all these documents and tombs contained a hundred chattering voices just waiting to be heard. Some of the books were as old as the village itself. Some were even older.

With his back to a radiator, Minato had surrounded himself with a nice pile of volumes. A few modern ones with more up to date information, like _Shinobi and the Art of Death_ lay by his knee alongside older books like _The Comprehensive Encyclopaedia of Kinjutsu_ which was far from comprehensive but it included a lot descriptions of forbidden techniques that had been forgotten by the modern world.

At first Kushina had done her part, picking up one of his books and skimming it with a look of intense concentration. Unfortunately, the next time he looked up she had disappeared. When she reappeared again, she was reading a small paperback with lurid art of zombies on the cover.

"This guy digs up bodies to create his own army of the undead," she said to him after a while.

"That's not research," he replied patiently, "that's fiction."

"It's not just important to figure out _how_ he's doing it. We need to figure out _why_ as well," she retorted.

"Unless he gets his ideas from cheap horror novels, I doubt the answer will be in there."

She ignored him and carried on reading. Minato turned back to his own, but he was speed-reading the final chapter and so far this author had not mentioned any forbidden jutsu that had power over death. Orochimaru hadn't been kidding when he'd called it a rare kind of jutsu. At last he tossed aside the book and picked up a volume published some thirty years ago that promised accounts of jutsu so salacious that no other books would write about them. Of course, half the accounts Minato read he had already seen described in fifteen other books. He browsed on, however, until he came to the chapter called 'The Masters of Death'.

It began:

Many a man has sought to master the world around him, whether in the form of elements, his land, or his fellow man. But that which men desire most to control is that which eludes him the most. To take life is the shinobi's purpose. To give it back escapes all but the most exceptional of individuals.

Minato skimmed on. He was already beginning to understand just how rare the jutsu was – what he needed was examples.

"Ah ha!" he said aloud, startling Kushina.

The author had moved on to describe cases of jutsu forbidden for their use of corpses. Some Suna nin who specialised in puppetry had been known to use corpses on the battle field if they ran out of custom made puppets. But this wasn't so much control over life and death as it was disrespectful of the dead. A more promising example given was of a tribe of unaffiliated mountain shinobi who could implant the life force of other people or animals into the recently deceased to give the appearance of reanimation, however temporary. These reanimated bodies could not be controlled however.

He grew more disappointed as the examples got weaker from there and the end of the chapter grew closer. He skimmed the last paragraph where the author redundantly reiterated how rare manipulation of the dead was, if not out of complication but because of the moral objection to such techniques. Only one line leapt out at him.

_Even the great Nidaime Hokage was forced to abandon the creation of a jutsu to revive the dead, and after declaring his own work too abhorrent to share it was sealed away in secrecy, incomplete._

"The Nidaime invented a forbidden technique that revived dead people," Minato said allowed. "Did you know that?"

Kushina frowned. "And?"

"That's all it says." He clapped the book shut with a sigh. "I suppose there wouldn't be much point classifying these things as forbidden if you could freely read up all their details in a local library."

"There are books on the Nidaime, aren't there?" Kushina pointed out, bobbing to her feet. "I'll go find some."

"I think I'll go with you." Spending all morning sitting amongst these books had begun to cramp his legs and he was keen to stretch them. They found the history section, and the subsection devoted to historical figures.

Kushina pulled a volume from the first bookshelf she came to. "This him?" she asked, pointing to the photograph of a man on its cover.

"Looks like it."

"Mmm. Konoha has good taste in leaders after all," she said, looking at the Nidaime appreciatively. "In Whirlpool our leaders tended towards the old and grizzly."

"What about your dad?" he inquired.

"Mother had to force him at knife point to shave and dress in a fresh shirt for official photos. She complained he looked like a tramp the rest of the time, and more so after he became the leader – although that may have been all the stress of trying to hold together a country that was falling apart," she said, beginning to flip through the book, skipping the text to focus mainly on the pictures. "There's a lot the history books don't tell you, isn't there?"

"Well, we don't need to know what the Nidaime wore on his days off," he replied, taking down a thick text from a shelf. "We just need to know more about this kinjutsu he created."

They browsed in silence. There had to be at least twelve books on this one particular man and thirty-three in total if you included the joint biographies with his older brother. Not many appeared to mention the kinjutsu in his list of created jutsu and talents, and the ones that did glossed over it in vague terms.

The library was always a quiet place, but sometimes people entered and carried on their conversations from the street. One such pair was passing on the other side of Minato's bookshelf, hidden from view though their gossip was easy to make out. The silence of the library had an unfortunate tendency to draw attention to conversations that might otherwise not have been heard.

"... don't know who he thinks he is."

"I'm surprised he has the nerve to show his face at headquarters today. They're saying the outpost at the earth border was attacked last night. If any more die it's on him."

"How did a man like that ever become a jonin in the first place?"

"The Hokage should demote him, if you ask me..."

The conversation faded away down the alleys of books and Minato glanced across at Kushina, wondering if she'd heard it. With her eyes fixed glassily at one point on the page she was reading and her hands gripping her book so hard she was threatening to tear the spine in half... he would have to say, yes, she had heard.

"They're idiots," he told her quietly.

"What?" she responded distantly, as if she didn't know what he was talking about. He returned to his book, thought he couldn't help noticing that Kushina did a lot more fidgeting after that and couldn't keep still.

Eventually he picked up another book and came across a passage of interest. "Hey listen to this one," he said, running a finger under the lines as he read them. "'_Aside from his incredibly strong affinity for the water element, the Nidaime Hokage was most famous for his tofu based recipes' _ - no, wait, that's not it. Uh... oh yes. '_Less is known about the Hokage's experimental phase in his youth, when he is said to have created one of the world's first true reanimation jutsu, a technique in which the user gives life back to the dead. The jutsu allegedly allowed the user to summon the souls of the deceased from The Beyond and tie them to their earthly body once more, making them nearly invulnerable to mortal injuries and in the thrall of the user. The Hokage theorised that a soul could be implanted into a living sacrifice, and the resulting union would be a true rebirth, and an indestructible physical form. However, the Hokage was horrified at the implications of his own creation and never completed it. He declared it a forbidden technique and sealed it away in one of Konoha's vaults, but to this day many regard it as the most perfect and powerful technique ever created by man.'_"

Kushina stared at him. "Does that sound like the technique you came across?"

"I don't know. The dead man I fought was definitely being controlled and this sort of sounds similar. If it's stored in one of Konoha's vaults, there'll be records of who has accessed it or if it's been broken into," he said. "If this is the technique, we'll know."

"I'll find Sensei and ask him," Kushina suggested.

"You think he'll know something about this?"

"Sensei knows practically everything," she said confidently, but he thought she was just looking for a good excuse to go see Sakumo that wouldn't seem like pity.

"Alright," he said, understanding. "I'll keep researching."

Kushina moved past him, brushing her hand gratefully across his forearm before disappearing between the stacks of books. In her absence, Minato wandered back to his bolthole at the back of the library with a new armful of books in hand. He doubted there was much else he could learn about the Nidaime's jutsu from them, but the more he read about the man, the more interesting he became. The subject of hokage past and present had been covered extensively in the academy – it was one of the first subjects they were taught, as the foundation of a good shinobi education must always include the architects of their way of life. Everyone had their favourite. Minato had always preferred reading about the Shodai of the three, as he seemed like a man with big dreams and even bigger powers. He was almost more myth than man, and by comparison his younger brother was a little less exciting even if his accomplishments were just as impressive. The Shodai may have founded the village and brought about an era of union and peace (which died with him), but it was the Nidaime who had founded the social services, the hospital, the school, and the police force and made the village what it was.

But perhaps it was his jutsu that Minato found most interesting. Besides his proclivity to play god with life and death, Minato could definitely appreciate a guy who knew his way around space-time jutsu.

An insistent little clicking noise brought Minato's nose out of his book. He looked vacantly towards the source of the noise; a dusty little window above the bookshelves that let in just enough light to read by. A tiny ball of feathers was just visible, hopping along the ledge and clacking its small beak against the dirty glass like it might have been trying to break through.

"Yes, yes," Minato sighed, rising to his feet once more. The bird flew away and Minato set his books to one side, realising his research would have to wait.

The Hokage had called an emergency secret meeting of the jonin.

* * *

Every single jonin in Konoha could comfortably fit into the Hokage's chambers. There were twenty-five of them in total standing in tense congregation, and as one of the last to arrive Minato joined the back of the crowd. He looked across and saw Sakumo leaning against the back wall, looking apart from proceedings. He must have been radioactive the way every other person in the room seemed to be trying hard to keep their distance while impressively managing to ignore his presence at the same time.

Since the Hokage had not yet arrived, Minato joined him by the wall.

"Watch who you're cosying up to," Sakumo said straight off, fixing him with a hard look. "Even your popularity has limits."

Minato ignored him. "Kushina was looking for you earlier, did you speak to her?" he asked.

He shook his head. Minato wondered if Sakumo might have been avoiding her.

"Any idea why we've been called?"

"Oh, I could make a few guesses," Sakumo remarked darkly, and a moment later the side-room door opened and the Hokage entered, ghosted by the figure of his student, Orochimaru.

At once the room fell silent and everyone stood to attention. "Thank you," said the Hokage distractedly, moving behind his desk though he didn't sit down. "We shall get straight to business. We have received a communication from Iwa a few hours ago. Orochimaru?"

The sannin unrolled a scroll and read from it. Minato didn't know if it was Orochimaru's husky, and slightly menacing tone of voice that made the hair rise on the back of his neck, or the content of the message he read out. "'Konoha has shown the world what it really is. Your hostile actions and meddling will no longer be tolerated. The rock will crush the leaf. Signed, the Sandaime Tsuchikage.'"

That seemed to be all the communication contained, and although Minato strongly resisted the urge to look at Sakumo, knowing exactly what kind of 'meddling' the Tsuchikage was referring to. Others in the room felt no such compunction and stared openly.

"Onoki, that old bastard," the Hokage grumbled beneath his breath.

"So it's war?" asked Shikaku who, for reasons baffling even to himself, had been promoted two months ago.

"It's likely," said the Hokage. "I have already received reports that Iwa nin are congregating near the border. They outnumber us and their strength make them difficult to head off, but they lack strategic innovation. They'll follow the same pattern as their last invasion and attempt to gain control of the neutral region before marching on us. Our settlements near the border must be defended and preparations must be made for refugees fleeing the neutral region. When I call your name, your mission will be to gather a team and defend key points. Our best chance is to work with the geography, and with any luck their incursion can be held off at the Heiou valley. Now... these teams will be led by Shigura, Yasuri..."

He named half the people in the room before he came to Minato. "Namikaze Minato, you may continue with your current assignment, although priority for resources go to the jonin teams." Before Minato could protest, he ploughed on. "The rest of you will remain in Konoha for now, but you will be concentrating on Kumo's forces. While Iwa makes its move, we need to know what they're up to and if we need to take similar action."

Minato waited patiently as the Hokage laid out his points and commands. This was one of the biggest undertakings he'd seen in his time as a jonin, and chances were that the people of this village would remain blissfully ignorant of what was happening, at least until the body count grew too high to cover up. Whether it would get to that point was another matter. History was filled with short secret invasions that were lost energy like a wave lapping at a beach, and those went unnoticed by the general population. But if Kumo got involved, or Suna smelled blood in the water and joined the fray to exact revenge for their Kazekage, it would be another world war. If it came to three villages against one, Konoha was certain to be obliterated.

Which made Minato wonder why, when their moves over the next twenty-four hours could decide the fate of the village, was the Hokage not deploying him.

When the old man finally called, "Dismissed!" Minato weaved through the crowd of departing jonin to stand before the desk.

"I should go with them," he said. "My other assignment can wait."

"No, it can't," the Hokage told him bluntly. "We already know that the quarry you are looking for takes advantage of conflict to gather more victims. This might be the best opportunity to catch him, as well as crucial in saving lives."

Behind the Hokage, Orochimaru flicked an eyebrow up at him with a slight smile. No doubt he may have been bitter that Minato had taken over an assignment he had failed, and any evidence that it inconvenienced Minato pleased him no end.

With a patient sigh, Minato nodded. "Of course, Hokage-sama-"

"HokageSarutobi-sama," Sakumo cut in, reaching the desk too. "I should lead a team as well."

"Again?" Orochimaru wondered softly. "Because you certainly did us proud the last time. You're not working for Iwa, are you?"

Sakumo looked at the sannin as if he'd been punched. The Hokage held up his hand. "That is quite unnecessary, Orochimaru," he said sharply. "But Sakumo, I would prefer it if you remain in the village for now."

"How am I to redeem my actions if I can't defend the village?" Sakumo demanded.

The Hokage shook his head impatiently. "I can't send you out with the way things are. It is better you keep a low profile and wait for things to blow over before returning to duty. Besides which, I didn't call you here today. You shouldn't have come."

"Then I've all but officially been stripped of my rank." Sakumo's smile was grim and hollow. "Two nations are moved to war over my mistake, but if the best I can do to defend my village is to go home and hide in disgrace, so be it."

He turned and left. Minato didn't think he'd ever felt more horrible, though he didn't who deserved his anger the most. The Hokage, for his snub? Orochimaru for his cruel words? Everyone else for their fickle nature, or himself for not knowing how to rectify the situation beyond passivity?

"Is that all, Minato?" the Hokage asked wearily.

Minato's gaze drifted over Orochimaru's faintly smug visage and kept his own face tightly schooled of all emotion. "If I'm to continue with my current assignment, there is something I need to ask," he said.

"If I can help," the Hokage said, nodding, "but I'm needed in the war room, so please walk with me."

Minato fell into step behind him, just ahead of Orochimaru. "Yes, sir. It's about your sensei."

"Which one?"

"Uh, the Nidaime, sir," he explained. "Is it true that he invented a forbidden jutsu?"

"Ah, yes, and why would that interest you? No doubt you're about to ask me where it was stored?"

"No doubt," agreed Minato. "I only ask because I believe the abductor might be using that particular jutsu. Is it possible your vault has been broken into?"

The Hokage marched on in silence, considering his words. "Are you sure you're on the right track, Minato?"

"I'm just following one possible lead. But how many jutsu do you know of that can animate the dead?"

"My sensei's jutsu was more about retrieving souls than animating the dead," the Hokage corrected, "though as it was an incomplete jutsu... who can say how it manifested? I never witnessed it. I can also assure you that my personal vault for forbidden techniques has never been broken into, not that it matters. The Nidaime's jutsu is not stored in Konoha. That particular technique required a little more protection and was stored in one of the fire temples. It's presided over by some of Sensei's descendants, I believe."

"Which temple?" Minato pressed.

"It's a secret, of course."

His heart fell. "Oh."

"Although, on a completely different note, I don't mind telling you my Sensei's grandson is a marvellous fellow. A monk in one of the fire temples, don't you know? The one at the edge of the Heiou valley, no less. A bit of a precarious position right now, if you ask me, so perhaps they wouldn't a helping hand right now?"

Minato suppressed a smile. "Perhaps they would, Hokage-sama." He turned to look with veiled triumph at Orochimaru... but at that moment he realised the sannin had disappeared. Minato could have sworn he'd been right behind them only a moment ago.

"Is something the matter?" the Hokage asked, noticing his pause.

"No, sir. I'll return to my duties now." He bowed and departed. If he hurried, he would be able to find Kushina and they could leave for the Fire Temple before the light started to fade.

* * *

"So it really is war then?" Kushina sighed, looking at him through the reflection of her bedroom mirror. The comb that had been flashing through her hair was set down and for a moment her gaze turned distant as she twisted her hair over one shoulder. The way she combed her fingers absently through her tresses was almost hypnotic; Minato didn't want to intrude upon her silence.

Eventually her thoughts returned and she looked up at him. "I should be amazed the Hokage hasn't rushed you straight off to the front line. Do you think we'll really find answers at this temple?"

"Who knows?" He came forward to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger, enjoying the silken texture. "If it turns up nothing we're back to square one, so we might as well check it out, even if it's just to confirm we're wrong."

"Alright," she said, "you're the boss. But I want to say goodbye to Sensei before we go."

"Sure. The Hokage was pretty harsh on him today. He probably needs cheering up."

Kushina said nothing, but handed him her special reinforced hair toggle and let him tie her hair up in the heaped bun she usually wore on missions away from the village. She watched him suspiciously as he arranged the flyaway ends of her hair in a perfect fan that covered the toggle from sight. "You're rather too good at that," she remarked.

"I watched and learned," he replied happily.

"I really should just cut it all off," she said, watching him even more closely. "Much more practical."

He sucked in a sharp breath. As tempting as it was to scream 'no' and then try to purge the village of any and all pairs of scissors, he knew she was only winding him up. Everyone had their buttons. For Minato, it was Kushina's hair. For Kushina it was... well, almost everything.

She reached up behind her and patted him on the cheek. "Just kidding. We better get moving if we want to make any progress today."

Once Kushina's hair was sorted, preparing for a trip was a fairly swift feat. Minato threw his backpack on his bed and filled it with all the necessary items and equipment he'd need. A ninja had to be ready to drop everything at a moment's notice and answer the call of duty when required, and all his scrolls and blades were meticulously maintained and waiting to be packed.

They locked the house up and headed at once for the Hatake residence and argued the whole way over which route on the map to take to the temple. Minato said the forest was more direct, but Kushina insisted the roads would be quicker, since Minato was bound to get them lost if they didn't have the benefit of signposts every few hundred yards of the way.

Kakashi was out on the porch when they arrived, bouncing a ball against the side of the house and catching it with a speed and precision that most adults couldn't have managed. "Hey, Kakashi," Minato greeted cheerfully. "Where's your dad?"

The boy looked at them with flat displeasure. "Inside."

While Kushina let herself into the house without so much as a knock, Minato hesitated. "What's wrong, Kakashi?"

"Nothing," the boy grunted sulkily.

"Nothing?" repeated Minato disbelievingly. "I thought you'd be happy now that your dad's back."

"Why?" Kakashi snatched the ball out of midair. "He doesn't want to talk, he doesn't want to play. What good is he? He'd rather be at work than with me."

Minato sighed. "That's not true. Your dad's going through a rough patch at work so he's a bit down, that's all. He'll cheer up soon."

Kakashi didn't look at all convinced. "Did you talk to him about mentoring me?"

Minato cleared his throat. "The important thing is-"

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"-I haven't had the opportunity yet. And your dad still wants you to complete your education."

"I already passed the chunin exam-!"

"And what good is a chunin who can't do simple algebra?"

"Alji-what?"

Minato patted him on the shoulder. "Don't rush to grow up so soon. Take your time, enjoy your friendships at the academy, and when you're ready... you'll be ready." Even as he said them, he realised his words were just false reassurances. Sending select jonin teams out to assess the situation and repel the first possible invasion forces was the first step before either side decided which strip of dirt they would fight to the death over and entrenched combat set in. The fight could be over in days or it could drag on for years. In any case, the administration wouldn't care if Kakashi's education was still incomplete. Like Minato many years ago, he would be one of the first deployed, and then a new kind of education would commence with a warzone for a classroom and the fight for day-to-day survival would be the only lesson.

In a village like this, childhood only lasted as long as peace permitted.

"How about this; when I get back from my mission, I'll take you on officially as my student," he offered. At least this way the council couldn't automatically order an eight year old out with the other chunin to the front lines without Minato's approval. An adequate 'tool' he might have been in the eyes of the village, but he was still just a child whose only understanding of death was that of a pet guinea pig.

"Do you mean it?" Kakashi demanded.

"Of course, I mean it." Minato grinned at him and nodded his head toward the door. "Come on, let's see what the other two are up to."

The other two were sitting in the lounge, conversing in low, serious tones. Minato hovered with Kakashi in the hall, not wanting to interrupt but still able to make out clearly what they were saying.

"It's too late to stop it and people are going to die," he heard Sakumo say. "I can't ignore that."

"I'm not asking you to," Kushina rebuked, "but you can't blame it on yourself. Not everything is about you. Iwa's actions were inevitable."

"But if I had succeeded, it would be Kumo they would be marching on."

"It wasn't you who failed that mission. The only one you can blame is that jinchuuriki."

"No," said Sakumo quietly. "I can't. You know I can't."

Kushina's head dropped. She placed her hand on Sakumo's arm and squeezed. "I'll be back soon."

"Take your time," he said, patting the top of her hand. "Obviously I won't be going anywhere."

With great reluctance, Kushina rose and joined Minato by the door. Kakashi took one look at her and opened his arms wide in plaintive demand.

"Take care of each other," Sakumo said to Minato, as Kushina bent down to envelope Kakashi in a bear hug and planted a loud kiss on his cheek. By this age most children were embarrassed to be shown affection by adults, and though Kakashi was no exception, almost all young boys made exceptions for pretty ladies who smelled nice.

"Take care of your dad for me," she whispered to him, and she was also one of the few people Kakashi would obey unquestioningly, for he nodded with a faint blush.

With a last respectful nod to Kushina's sensei, they set off on their way.

* * *

In the end they took neither the road nor the forest, but the river. Following it north-west was the only natural path to the Heiou valley where the Fire Temple lay, and they followed its course well into the night. There was only a sliver of moon hanging in the sky, not enough to see by, so when the sun set Minato pulled out his electric lamp and led the way across the water.

Kushina seemed a little preoccupied and didn't talk much, though Minato wasn't concerned. There wasn't much to say and silence was just as companionable as conversation when it came to Kushina. They were both focused on getting to the Fire Temple before morning, but they'd already been stopped once by a troop of Konoha nin heading for the border who'd seen the light of their lamp. That had wasted half an hour of their journey, trying to explain to another jonin what they were up to and that they really were who they said they were (the other jonin only became convinced when Kushina threatened to write a letter of complaint to the Hokage _with his spine_).

A mild inconvenience, but when Minato held to lamp to his watch he saw that they had to be less than an hour away from the temple.

"Do you smell smoke?" Kushina asked him.

Minato looked back at her, shaking his head.

"Huh," she grunted, looking sideways into the darkness with a troubled frown creasing her forehead.

"The Fire Temple should be close by," he said, and pointed to a huge black shadow looming up to their left to block out the stars. "If we climb that hill we might be able to see it from the top."

They left the river and clambered up the slope, but something strange began to happen as they made their ascent. Minato looked ahead to the skyline and realised the stars were fading, replaced by the kind of dull orange glow he normally only saw over Konoha. But aside from the temple there could be no light pollution around this wild, largely untouched valley.

The stench of smoke hit Minato then, and as they crested the hill all became clear. The valley tumbled away before them, like the land had been scooped away before the hills rose once more in a ridge miles away. They shouldn't have been able to see them on a night as dark as this one, but tonight the hills were outlined with flickering dashes of glowing orange light.

"They've set the hills on fire," Kushina whispered.

"Maybe there's a battle over there," he said. It was eerie how quite everything was, even while looking at what was a raging inferno burning through acres of forest just a few miles away.

"What should we do?" Kushina asked uncertainly. "Do we check it out?"

Minato wanted to, dearly, but they were not prepared. They were on a fact-finding mission with no back-up, and running into burning forests looking for untold numbers of enemies was not their prerogative. "We have our mission," he said to Kushina. "We should stick to it."

After all, they had both witnessed the foibles of those who abandoned their missions...

"Then I think the temple is this way," Kushina said, taking the lamp from him to lead the way down the hill again, a little faster than before. Minato followed, wondering if this was the right decision. If he had come alone on this mission perhaps he would have crossed the valley to investigate whether the fires had been started by farmers or invaders. With Kushina, his decisions were tinged with caution. He didn't want to put her in undue danger... if they came across a full complement of Iwa nin, he wasn't sure he could protect both her and himself.

Their mission would save lives if they succeeded, but he couldn't help but wonder if there were people on those distant hills that needed more immediate rescue. He didn't blame Sakumo for choosing the latter.

Kushina's thoughts must have been running in the same direction as him for after a while she spoke up again. "I'm really worried about him."

There was no question of who she meant. "I'm sure Sakumo will be alright," he said. "I think you're underestimating him."

"You never saw him when his wife died," she reminded him sharply. "You weren't the thirteen year old girl having to remind her sensei to get dressed and feed his baby. He's not a strong man, Minato. He already had one break down, I don't want him to suffer another."

He almost stopped in surprise. "Did you really have to deal with that?" He remembered she had written to him about it while he was fighting on the water country border, but she had never actually spoken of since.

"Before I was sent away to fight, yes. But back then he had a lot of support from everyone else too. This time he's disgraced. It's only going to get worse when people start dying. He's stupid enough to take it all on himself."

"Well..." Minato said slowly, searching for the right reassuring words that might even have been the truth. "Losing a mission isn't like losing your wife. I doubt he'd get that bad again."

They walked along in silence as Kushina thought about this. "Maybe," she said quietly. "He really did love her. It was horrible. She just went on a mission and she never came back, and those bastards in Suna wouldn't return her body. Sensei never got a chance to say goodbye to her. He seemed ok at first, but then he just fell apart. I know it's hard to imagine him like that, but it's true."

"It's not that hard to imagine," Minato said. "When you love someone so much that just the thought of losing them makes you more scared of anything else in your life... I don't think it's strange to break down." After a moment he added, "I think I'd die if I lost you."

She stopped short and swung the lamp towards him. "You shouldn't say that," she said, so suddenly and forcefully that he froze. "If anything happens to me, you've got to keep living!"

He stared at her, taken aback.

"I'm not worth losing your life over. No one is," she went on. "That's what my mother said to me before she... and I didn't give up because she was right. I don't want to lose anyone else I love, especially not over something stupid like that. No one's going to die, so we should just stop talking about it. I can look after myself and I would die _before_ I ever let anything happen to you, so there."

She turned away to stalk onward, but she was immediately swung back as Minato crossed the short distance between them and caught her elbow. Before she could scold him for knocking the lantern from her hand, his mouth closed over hers and his arms went around her. He broke the kiss only long enough to see her confusion and say, "I was just trying to tell you how much you mean to me, Idiot."

"Then say 'I love you' like a normal person," she replied. "Freak."

All this talk of losing people had him unsettled and a little desperate to remind himself that she was still with him, as close and safe and in as good health as she'd ever been. He kissed her again, deeper, and felt her arms wind around his neck more tightly as her body pressed into his.

There was no doubting she was alive. Her curves were warm and soft and such a pleasure to his senses to stroke. And when he cupped his hand against her bottom, she made the cutest moan he'd ever heard. Normally at this point she would be drawing away and joking that she needed to cool off. Right now, however, either because of their setting or their conversation, she wasn't stopping.

He should have known it was too good to be true. Unfortunately, his only inkling that something was wrong was the terrific impact against his side and shoulder, and the next thing he knew, he'd been thrown against a tree.

His first dazed thought was that he must have pissed Kushina off somehow, but even she couldn't hit that hard. Later she would tell him he'd been hit by a jet of water, though at the time he could only assume it was a ton of bricks. His jumbled thoughts took a moment to reassemble themselves enough to twig they were under attack, and by then he was pinned to the ground with at least two people kneeling on his arms and a third on his back.

"Are you alright, young lady?" A fourth man was standing with Kushina, holding up the lamp she'd dropped earlier.

"What are you doing?" she shouted back. "Get them off him!"

"He wasn't attacking you?" asked the man.

"No!" she cried. "He's my boyfriend!"

"It looked like he was strangling you."

"No - he's just... enthusiastic."

Minato sighed, his dripping face thumping back into the soft earth. "You can go ahead and kill me now," he said to the men pinning him down.

"Better let him up," said the man with the lamp. "No harm done, though I would remind you two that you're on sacred ground, so perhaps you could, ah, refrain."

The pressure eased off Minato's arms and back, and he carefully rose to his feet once more, uncomfortably aware that every cold, wet inch of clothing was sticking to him in all sorts of uncomfortable places. Now that he got his first good look at their 'attackers', he realised that while they didn't look like Iwa nin, they certainly weren't from Konoha either. The fire symbol on their deep red robes revealed their allegiance, however.

"Are you monks from the Fire Temple?" he asked them, looking at each of their regimentally bald. The only one who had hair was the man holding his lamp.

"That we are," said the monk. "We don't normally greet people like this, but we've been warned to expect Iwa to attack so we're in full blackout. We saw your light and came to investigate and when we saw you knock it from the lovely young lady's hand we... well, we apologise. It's a very dark night and everyone's a little jumpy. Did you get separated from your team?"

"We were looking for you actually," Minato told him.

"Me?" The monk blinked in surprise. "What have I done now?"

"No – your temple, I mean. We're on a mission."

"Extraordinary," said the monk, peering at him. "Do I know you? You look very familiar."

"He's the Yellow Flash," supplied Kushina.

People usually gasped at this point, or began looking nervous. Judging from the long silence as the man turned this strange name over in his head, he clearly had never heard of it before. He just nodded politely, "A... gang name?"

Minato wondered if he was being teased. "My legendary title."

"They give those to teenagers these days?"

"I'm twenty-one."

After a beat, the monk gave him a sympathetic look. "I bet you have trouble buying drinks."

"Like you wouldn't believe," Minato agreed.

"Not that our order would know much about those sinful pollutants," said one of the other monks piously.

"Oh, yes," said the first monk blithely. "Of course. Now let's get back to the temple before more unsavoury characters try to ambush you."

They had been much closer to the temple than they'd realised. In full black-out it was impossible to see the structure hidden amongst the trees until they were virtually on top of it and the light of the lamp fell on an old, wooden door that appeared from nowhere. The monks ushered them inside, down cool stairwells into underground chambers where candles were fetched and matches were struck. "No electricity in the temple," explained the monk with hair. "They say it's sacrilegious to light the Fire Temple with anything other than fire. I say it's a damn nuisance, but there you go."

"Sensei," sighed one of the junior monks.

"You're the senior monk here?" Kushina asked politely.

"Yes, though you'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise," he said, casting a vague glare in the direction of his scolding subordinates.

"I didn't realise the senior monks were allowed hair," she said.

"Ah, no," he said. "We're not."

"Then why-"

"We can't make him shave," said a junior monk. "We've tried."

"Still doesn't stop you coming at me while I sleep with razors at least once a month," the senior monk reminded them. "Now let's step into my office and discuss this mission of yours. The rest of you – don't you have some fire to worship or something? Off with you."

The rest of the monks drifted away, looking pained, while Kushina and Minato were escorted into a warm side-room that looked more like someone's sparse bedroom than an office. There wasn't much in the way of furniture aside from a thin futon rolled up in the corner, but at least the fire-pit in the middle of the room was full of hot embers and gently smoking wood. That had to be at least one bonus of being in an order that deified fire.

The monk set down the electric lantern and switched it off at last, and with the same hand motioned at the fire. "Please feel free to sit and remove your clothes," he said.

Kushina frowned at him. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, not you. Your friend needs to dry off, but you're welcome to join him. Me, I'll spare you the sight of this pasty old flesh."

Not that the monk looked particularly old. He was around the same age as Hatake Sakumo, but as he sat down a sneaking suspicion of Minato's was confirmed. It was hard to tell with such long, voluminous sleeves, but the reason he kept using his left hand for everything was because his right arm appeared to end at the elbow.

The man had clearly been a ninja once upon a time, but an injury like that usually brought their kind of career to an abrupt stop. A lot of jutsu demanded seals which required both hands, and even those who prioritised in taijutsu, it was a difficult to compensate for a missing limb, if not impossible for most. Those veterans who suffered such grievous injuries were usually retired quietly, or in this case, joined an occupation with a more sedentary lifestyle.

As Minato stripped his outer clothes off and sat down, the monk lifted a stone flag from the floor beside him and reached inside. "Cocoa?" he inquired, producing a battered tin from his hidden cache.

It looked like he was having trouble adjusting to the stringent requirements of this occupation too. "Please," he and Kushina murmured.

"I'm Han," said the monk as he set up a pot of water to boil. "I'm the senior of this temple, so if you're here on behalf of Konoha, you can address your concerns to me. I'll try to help in any way I can."

Kushina had a very pressing concern. "Do you have any food?"

"Yes." Han reached down into his hidden store again for a packet of biscuits, no doubt just as forbidden as everything else. "Please help yourself. Mr. Flash, would you like a blanket? I see you're shivering over there."

"I'm fine." The fire was already working its magic.

"I apologise again for... dousing you," said Han.

Minato raised an eyebrow. "That was you?"

"Surprised?" Han lifted his shortened arm, and Kushina choked on her biscuit, having only just noticed. "It's true I lost most of my jutsu the day I lost my right hand, but I've always been able to use water jutsu. Handed down to me from grandfather... as was this temple."

"Then you're the Nidaime's grandson?" Minato said. "You're Senju?"

"Senju Hanerutokoroni." He nodded. "But I prefer Han. And what are you when you're not flashing?"

"I'm Namikaze Minato and this is Uzumaki Kushina." The later waved, having already demolished the entire packet of treats she'd been handed. "We're actually kind of here about your grandfather's jutsu. We were told there's one in particular that was sealed away here that you're guarding-"

"The Reanimation technique?" Han had been mild and affable until this point, but barely a shift in his tone or expression, his mien had become much sharper and guarded. "Why do you ask?"

"We think someone could be using it."

Han shook his head. "That's impossible. The only man who could ever use it is dead and he never taught it to anyone else. The technique has been sealed away here in our vault for decades."

"You're sure no one's broken in?"

"That's something I would have noticed. There has never been a break-in. So few people know the jutsu exists, let alone where it is."

"Well, could we see it? Make sure it hasn't been tampered with?"

"I'm afraid not. The vault hasn't been opened in fifty years, and according to my grandfather's wishes, it'll stay closed forever. It's not the kind of power that should ever be unleashed."

"How do you know the jutsu is still in there if you've never opened it?" Kushina asked. "And are these all the biscuits you have?"

"They _were_, yes," answered Han. "And it stands to reason that if the vault has never been opened, the contents have never been removed."

"And you would definitely know if the vault has been opened?"

"Definitely."

Minato sighed inwardly. Senju Han was a little more stubborn than he'd anticipated. "Could we see the vault?"

"Tomorrow," the monk said. "I can't show it to you in the middle of a black-out, you understand. You're welcome to rest here for the night, but after that I'd have to ask you to return to your village. This temple is at great risk of attack, and I wouldn't wish you to be caught up in danger."

"We're used to danger," Kushina told him.

"Even so." Han pushed himself to his feet. "This is the cosiest room in the temple, so I insist you sleep here tonight. I assume you brought your own bedding? All the blankets I smuggle into this place go missing thanks to my zealous little monklings, so I'm afraid I have nothing to offer."

"We'll be fine, thank you."

"Good. And... again, please refrain from any impure activity," Han said with a sigh. "Not that it matters, but this is a celibate order and it's difficult to be reminded of the things we gave up."

No worries there, Minato thought. Kushina looked only too happy to obey the rules of a celibate order of monks.

"Goodnight then," Han said, and his gaze lingered briefly on Minato before he removed himself from the room.

Turning to Kushina, he asked, "What do you think?"

"Of Han? Complete flake," she said shortly.

"You don't like him?"

"Oh, flakes don't bother me, or I wouldn't be dating you, would I?" Kushina licked her finger and dabbed at the last crumbs inside the biscuit wrapper. "I'm not sure about this vault, though. He seems pretty sure no one's broken into it."

"He could be wrong," Minato suggested. "A guy good enough to _use_ a technique like that is probably good enough to break into the vault holding it without detection."

"Are you going to demand he open it tomorrow?" she asked him. "'Cause it was sealed under a hokage's orders, and I don't think you have the authority to overrule that."

"No," he agreed, but perhaps there was another way...?

They unrolled their sleeping bags by the fire and went through the same short rituals in preparation for sleep. Kushina brushed her hair and removed her equipment before settling inside her bag, but Minato was still a little too damp to retire. He remained seated, staring into the fire.

"You warm enough?" she asked.

"We could share body-heat?"

"We'll be struck down by lightning. Didn't you hear the holy man?"

He remained quiet for moment, but her light-hearted rebuffs had started to wear thin on him. "You'd refuse even if he hadn't said anything," he pointed out.

"Well, of course. You're all cold and slimy."

"And if I wasn't?"

"What's the big deal?" she demanded, lifting her head to look at him. "I'm tired."

"You're always tired – or you always need to wash your hair, or do the dishes, or you always remember there's an errand you need to run. It's all too convenient. You never in your life get headaches except for when we're together."

"Yah, you're good at giving me headaches," she grumbled, shuffling down in her sleeping bag with her back to him.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked. "With me?"

"Isn't it a little conceited for the most perfect guy in Konoha to fish for compliments?" she shot back. "Of course there's nothing wrong with you."

"I just want to know what the problem is-"

"There's no problem. I only think you ought to really know and accept someone before you do those kinds of things together."

"And you think you don't me that well?" But they'd known each other for years. Minato couldn't think of another person in the world he'd ever been more open and connected with.

"Maybe it's you who doesn't know me."

"I doubt that," he said, but Kushina merely shrugged and yawned.

"I'm going to sleep now," she murmured. "Do what you like."

A few minutes later her breathing had evened out and if she wasn't asleep then at least she was determined to act like it. Minato had considered letting her in on his plan, but now he wasn't feeling quite so generous. He didn't like being blown off with lame excuses and reasons. If she feared intimacy or found it repulsive, or if she'd suddenly decided to become one of those people who wanted to save it for marriage (in case it was disastrous, presumably), he wouldn't have minded, as long as she _told_ him so. Suggesting it was because he didn't really know her was like a kick in the shinbones. What was he supposed to do about that? He'd spent most of his life trying to get to know her from the first day she'd arrived in the village looking like an orphan princess, and he knew things about her now that few others knew about; secrets that, in the wrong hands, could get her killed. A secret another village had attempted to kidnap him for, and one he had laid his life down to protect. And she said this wasn't good enough?

As silently as a shadow, Minato got up and pulled on his dry set of spare clothes. Leaving Kushina to her sleep – fake or otherwise – he slipped from the room with a spare candle to guide his way through the dark underground corridors. The temple and its hidden passages might as well have been a labyrinth during a black-out, but when Minato pressed his fingers to the stone walls and probed with chakra, he felt the general layout was smaller and simpler than he'd expected. Thirty to forty monks slept on this underground level, and above them the temple was deserted. The vault must have been up there, he thought, noticing a conspicuous area where his chakra couldn't penetrate.

He found the stairs leading up to the temple's enclosed forecourt, where the smell of smoke from the distant forest fires was stronger than ever. But they wouldn't last much longer. Minato held out his hand and felt the first light droplets of rain land on his palm. Before morning there would be a downpour.

Across the forecourt was the pagoda and the entrance of the monastic study hall. During the day it was no doubt a very impressive sight, but Minato's feeble little candle didn't light much beyond the end of his nose. The flame's halo bounced off the edges of a pair of stone guardians and a series of beautiful, unlit lanterns, but otherwise the large hall was empty. Minato crossed to the far end to the place his chakra couldn't penetrate, presented to his senses like a dark blot in an otherwise brightly illustrated picture. He pushed a painted screen carefully aside and stepped into the small alcove behind it.

A set of stone carved doors confronted him, held closed by one long stone pin with an ofuda paper circling it.

Minato stood back and contemplated it carefully. Obviously trying to jiggle the pin loose was futile – the pin was stuck fast as if it were part of the door itself. Only the one who'd planted the ofuda would be able to undo a protective jutsu like that, and Minato suspected that was none other than Senju Han.

The cracks between the doors and their frame were just as impenetrable. Minato attempted to slip one of his paper tags between the thin gap, and the vault didn't take kindly to this. The paper met some kind of block and a moment later burst into flames in his hand. It rapidly curled away and dissolved into ashes while Minato sucked his fingers thoughtfully. It was a pity he didn't have someone like A on hand to simply punch it open, but then that would defy the point. If he was right, this vault had been opened in recent years, and whoever had done it had managed without leaving any evidence.

However, the design of these protections were not the kind you could break through without leaving a lot of rubble in your wake. Then again, there were more ways to enter a house than the front door.

He pressed his hand to the floor and once again let his chakra trickle through the framework of the temple. The vault was secure on all sides it seemed, roughly the size of a closet, and directly beneath it lay one of the underground passages leading to the dormitory. Minato snatched up his candle and pulled the screen back into place before quickly retreating to the stairs. Keeping his hand up to stop the candle guttering out, he followed the quiet passages until he was sure he was beside the vault again... this time directly below it.

The candlelight didn't reveal much. The rough, pock-marked ceiling cast all kinds of little flickering shadows no different from any other part of the corridor. He needed to get closer, and so he placed the candle on the floor and lifted a foot to mount the wall. With his chakra to aid him, he climbed up to the ceiling and crouched there, upside down, running his fingers across it's bumpy surface to probe for a weakness in the vault's defences. His senses came up against the same solid wall, as if trying to insist there was nothing there at all. But where the entrance of the vault had been elaborately impenetrable... Minato thought he detected a pin-prick in this flank. A tiny spot in the black canvas where light could shine through, so to speak. He moved his hand toward it and his fingertip brushed against a hole in the concrete.

If he hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed it. In a ceiling full of dimples and dashes it was easy to overlook, but this hole had a peculiar symmetry to it. Perfectly round and not quite big enough to accommodate his little finger, he was sure it extended all the way up through the stone, possibly right into the vault itself.

As a faint breeze blew down the corridor, threatening to extinguish his light, Minato got to work. He stretched out a length of wire and around one end he rolled one of his tags tightly. When the wire was charged with chakra it could become as straight and stiff as splint, and without further ado he guided it into the hole, manoeuvring the tag through the stone... waiting for it to combust if and when it hit the protective barrier... or waiting for it to slide right through the defences.

"Having trouble sleeping?"

Minato's fingers fumbled to a stop and he looked down...

Senju Han was standing beneath him in a sleeping yukata, hand tucked into his belt alongside a smoking pipe. More sacrilegious pollutants, no doubt. His expression was one of polite inquiry, but Minato reckoned it was no accident that he'd been caught almost red-handed. "That's the second time you've snuck up on me," he said.

"And I promise I won't blast you through the air a second time as long as you give me an adequate explanation for why you are hanging upside down beneath my grandfather's vault with every appearance of trying to break into it." He scooped up the candle and held it aloft. "And please come down before you break your neck."

Minato retracted his wire and dropped down to the floor. "I was trying to break into your vault, yes," he admitted.

"Why?"

"To prove it could be done."

"How venturesome," Han remarked evenly. "I should have known a Namikaze wouldn't have been put off that easily. And how did you go on?"

"Not too bad," Minato said, "although I'm not the first person to try, and I'm pretty sure someone already succeeded before me." He pointed to the hole in the ceiling, and Han squinted up at it sceptically.

"You didn't make that?" he asked.

"It was like that when I got here."

Han shook his head regretfully. "I suppose you think I have no choice but to open the vault now to check on the scrolls?" he said. "Well, you'd be correct. We might as well get this over with."

Minato followed him back through the passages to the temple forecourt. The sky was in full downpour now, but at least the sun's first early morning hues provided better light to see by. Han led him into the study hall and pushed aside the screen, and it was almost criminal how simply he dragged one finger over the ofuda paper and its inscriptions vanished, along with all the protections sealing the vault. "I'll need your help," he said to Minato. "Two hands are better than one."

Obligingly, Minato slid the pin free of its sockets and pulled open one door as Han dragged on the other. The vault yawned open before them, and the musty smell of dust and old parchment rolled out.

Inside was a small pedestal, and upon the smell pedestal lay a slim black scroll.

"Is that it?" Minato asked him.

Han's jaw had locked. "No," he said, reaching inside to take the scroll. "That isn't the Reanimation scroll." Even with one hand he snapped it open with a flick of his wrist and held it close to the candle to read.

Minato leaned closer, trying to peer over his shoulder. "What does it say?"

"'_By the time you think to look here, it will be because I am long gone and my attempts were a success._ _The legacy of the Nidaime Hokage was not made to rot under lock and key. The world will know immortality once again.'"_

And as one extra act of blasphemy in this most holy of temples, the monk added his very heartfelt reaction.

"Fuck."

* * *

TBC


	24. Once Bitten

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twenty-Four: Once Bitten

* * *

The calling card may have put Senju Han out of sorts, but as far as Minato was concerned it was his first piece of good luck in a long time. It was certainly more than he could have hoped for when all he'd expected to find – at best – was an empty vault. While the monk stared forlornly at the place where his grandfather's scrolls should have been, Minato discreetly took the scroll from his limp fingers. "This is probably the same guy abducting people," he said, examining the message. "Do you have any idea when the techniques might have been taken?"

Han didn't answer for a moment, as if he hadn't heard him. Minato was about to repeat the question when he suddenly spoke. "Any time between now and fifty years ago?" Han ran his hand over his face. "I only had one purpose left in life, and imagine that: I've failed it."

"You can't blame yourself," Minato told him abstractedly. "I'm beginning to think this guy is on par with a kage for how easily he outmanoeuvres everyone. The protections on your vault were perfect."

"I should have noticed the break-in."

Minato had already offered his token condolences and now he was more concerned with the scroll in his hand. The message had been hand-written with a distinctive style that he was almost sure he'd seen before. It wasn't much of a lead to go on, but it was better than nothing. The cryptography department back in Konoha had a handwriting analysis expert, if he recalled correctly, and it was about time she started utilising her job title. "Do you know why he would say the 'world will know immortality once again'?"

"That's the jutsu, isn't it?" Han said, slowly pushing the vault doors shut again, though he didn't bother to lock them. "It's a jutsu that cannot only bring the dead back to life, but restore their souls. Providing you sacrifice a life in return, you could bring back anyone as many times as you like. It's... a very tempting prospect, isn't it? There are always people you would love to have back beside you once more... and far too many you would happily sacrifice to do so. It's evil even in the most well-intentioned hands; in the wrong hands you could resurrect armies."

"Seriously?" Kushina hadn't been too far off the mark with her horror novel theory about zombie armies... not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

Han shrugged and shook his head. "So there you have it," he said, wandering away. "I don't know what else to tell you. I expect you'll be heading back to Konoha in the morning?"

"I expect so, yes."

"I can't say that I won't be relieved," Han said with a soft, humourless laugh.

Well, now Minato just felt guilty. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know we've caused you a lot of grief coming here."

Han raised his head to look him in the eye. "You say that with a face like that... and you have no idea." He shook his head again and moved away to sit on the steps outside the hall, looking out at the rain hammering the courtyard.

"What do you mean?" Minato asked him plainly.

"You're Midoriko's son, aren't you?" Although the way Han asked made it clear he already knew the answer. "I knew when you gave your name... should have realised it straight away when I saw your face. I don't know why, but even though it's been twenty years, I still expected you to be a child. Makes me realise how long it's been."

Scroll in hand, Minato sat down on the steps beside him, looking at the monk more closely than he had since his arrival. Small lanterns and candles had never given him the whole picture, but now as morning approached and the new gray light filtered through the rain, Minato noticed what he hadn't before. Han was pale – from the tips of his hair to the ends of his fingers. Suddenly Minato knew where he'd seen him before.

"You were in my mother's team," he said in wonder. "I thought you were dead."

"As good as." Han lifted his mutilated arm. "The same battle that took my arm also took all my teammates, including your mother. I didn't really survive. I came here to die, but I fear I'm dragging it out a bit."

Minato's mind exploded with questions. He'd never met anyone who had truly known his mother. Sakumo had come close, but he didn't have many answers and prying them loose was like extracting teeth from a tiger. As her teammate, Han must have known her well, only Minato didn't know where to start. So he asked the biggest question of all: "What was she like?"

Han glanced sideways at him, confused. "Your mother?" he asked. "You mean you don't know."

"My father wouldn't talk about her."

"No... he wouldn't. He was always a bitter, jealous little man who had trouble sharing her. So handsome when he was young, and witty, and charming, and I think your mother liked the security of marrying a civilian. She was the kind of woman who had ten wedding proposals before breakfast, and at the time she seemed happiest with him. It was a mistake, if you'll forgive me for saying so. He never forgave her for not devoting herself completely to him, and he blamed me for her death. Well, he was probably right about that. What's he up to these days?"

"Oh..." Minato scuffed the heel of his sandal against the stone steps. "He died."

Han slipped his piped from his belt and put it between his lips as he lit it with a lighter. Only after his first drag did he say, with complete and utter insincerity, "What a shame."

That nettled Minato a little, though he couldn't explain why. He didn't particularly care for his father, but he liked observing simple respect for the dead. Or perhaps it was more that his father's death had sparked a time of deep uncertainty and upheaval for Minato, and it was hard to brush it all off as a shame. "Why did he blame you for her death?" Minato asked him.

"Then he never even told you how she died?"

"I know that she died on a mission in the line of duty," Minato said, though neglected to mention this was because he'd looked up her service record at one time.

"If you can call it that. It had nothing to do with our mission – we had completed it and we were on our way back. It happened so close to Konoha, we were just a stone's throw away from the gate. A man stopped us and confronted us. He spoke to me and said... no, I don't remember what he said anymore. All I remember is his mask. It only had one eye-hole, you know, and we just assumed he was an idiot or a madman. Then he struck, and he killed Chihiro, and Goro. Then he killed Midoriko." Han stopped, lowering his pipe to his lap. "She was tipped to be the first female Hokage of Konoha, and she could take even me down in fifteen seconds if she put her mind to it. And this guy broke her neck like it was nothing. He could have just as easily killed me – he should have – but all he took was my arm. I think he wanted me to live with the loss. He took their lives and my livelihood because of what they meant to me, and I can't imagine a more appalling reason to die."

Minato couldn't speak for a moment. It was true. Dying in the line of duty at least had some nobility... but dying just to cause grief? Just to make a point? Was that all his mother's life had come to. "Who?" he demanded. "Who did that?"

"You think we didn't search?" Han asked him. "A man like that appears only when he wants to be found. I could have consumed my life with a search for vengeance, but I knew even then that we were chasing a phantom. We never found out who was responsible. As for 'why'? A man with a grudge against the Senju, perhaps, and there are plenty of those to pick and choose from. Who really knows why. It was a meaningless slaughter."

"I've brought up bad memories," Minato said apologetically.

"The only reason I keep living is to carry them with me. It's not your fault." Han reassured him. "I remember your mother every day. It's good to talk about her again."

Minato tilted his head. He supposed it wasn't that an odd confession to make, but something about the way he said it implied there was more to it than that. "You were close to her."

"Best friends." Han nodded.

"Then... did you know who her lover was?"

"My, aren't you blunt," murmured Han, appraising him. "Even the best of friends keep secrets from one another. I know what you're really asking, but as far as the law is concerned you are her husband's child, and that was that."

"Is that all you can tell me?" Minato asked a little desperately. "After all these years I was hoping for something a little more definitive."

"A life without definition is a free life."

"Or maybe you were her lover." Minato said it before he could stop himself. Ever since he'd seen the photograph of his mother's team in the academy he'd wondered why Sakumo had directed him there. But if the boy in the picture was his father and was as long dead as Kakashi believed him to be, then his search for an answer was a fruitless one.

But here was the man in question, who turned to look at him slowly with a troubled expression. "Your mother was a loyal, faithful woman and her husband didn't deserve her. But if you believe the cruel things he said about her, you're buying into his paranoid delusions and disrespecting her memory. Put it out of your mind. It saddens me that such lies overshadow her legacy. She deserved better than to die as she did, and she deserves better than for her son to think she was an adulterer."

Minato let out a slow breath. "So you're saying... my father was actually my father?"

"A novel idea, isn't it?" Han smiled at him. "But reassuring, no?"

That wasn't how Minato would describe a revelation that he really did share half his genes with a violent drunk. "Is that really true?" he asked, scowling deeply.

"Why would I lie?" Han asked, holding his palm out in a gesture of honesty.

"Because there's about twenty years worth of child support and pocket money you owe me," Minato pointed out.

Han laughed and nodded. "True. That would be a good reason. But since I took a vow of poverty-"

"Which I'm sure you take as seriously as your other vows."

Han sighed and shrugged. "You know, you don't just look like her, you talk like her too. If she could see me today she wouldn't let me get away with such things either, but at least I think she would be proud of you. I was teasing you earlier – I've heard of you before. Everyone here knows who the Yellow Flash is, even if I never connected it with Midoriko's son until now. I would claim you in a heartbeat if it was my right to do so... but it's not."

Absently, Minato looked down at the scroll in his hand, having almost forgotten its contents and what it meant. Han nodded to it, and said, "You've got what you came for. Isn't that enough?"

Still, Minato couldn't help but feel a little like someone had tried to yank the rug from beneath his feet – not so much that he had fallen, but for a brief moment he'd thought the answer to his paternity was staring him in the face. Instead he was now wondering if the drunk man who called him 'bastard' more often than 'Minato' had really been his father all along, and this mistrust he'd had in his wife had been an unfounded delusion.

At the very least he now felt he had some kind of human connection to his mother – someone who had known her personally and was willing to speak of her, even if he half wished he hadn't asked how she'd died. He would have tried to ask Han more but the monk seemed like he was still a little dismayed over the vault's infiltration, and Minato didn't have the heart to keep pushing. His mother may have been a figure of mild curiosity to him, but to someone like Han, she was evidently a much more sensitive subject.

Crossing the forecourt through the rain, Minato slipped away with the black scroll, back down into the underground passages where he'd left Kushina. The fire had died in his absence but its heat still warmed the room and made his rain-chilled skin shiver.

Kushina, in true form, had somehow escaped her sleeping bag and was now sprawled across his too. He stood beside her for a moment, listening to her faint snores and wondering if he should wake her. There was some pressing matters she ought to know. For instance, he could shake her shoulder and say, "Hey, Kushina, guess what. I just accused a stranger of being my father." Or maybe the discovery of this scroll in the vault was a more pressing point?

Crouching down, he touched her shoulder. "Kushina...?"

"Mmgh..." she grunted. "S'warm... few more mints..."

It was nothing that couldn't wait until morning, and so Minato decided to lie down and hopefully catch a little sleep before Senju Han came to shoo them out of his temple. Almost at once Kushina turned and folded her arm around him, pinning his shoulder to the floor with her head.

"Cold n' slimy..." she sighed contentedly.

Minato knew he'd have to give up on any thought of sleep, but at least he felt a little bit better now that he could relax and stroke his fingers through Kushina's hair for as long as he wanted.

* * *

The hills were black. The Heiou valley was known to be one of the greenest, most verdant bowls of land in the country, and now on the east side of the river lay a patchwork of smoking, charred strips of land. When they left the temple and saw the effects of last night's forest fires for the first time in daylight they were a little stunned.

Kushina, who had once protested her own unit's tactics of destroying habitat to fight off Waterfall forces, stood staring in disgust. "It's going to take years to recover," she said to him. "And what good has it done anyway? It's so... short-sighted."

There was nothing either of them could do so they set off back along the same trail they'd followed the previous day, tracing the river east towards Konoha. The smell of smoke hung thickly in the air as they descended the hills away from the temple, and though they had what they'd come for – strong evidence that their theory was correct – Minato wished he'd had a little time longer to speak with Han. But the monk seemed more eager to see the back of him than to further discuss his past, and Minato had to respect that – the man had come here in part to escape it.

Although he usually told Kushina everything, for once he kept his revelations to himself. They were too personal, he thought, though he wondered if he wasn't just feeling a little snubbed after her comments the previous night about how well he knew her.

"You're being awfully quiet," Kushina said after a while, glancing at him curiously.

"Am I?" They'd spent most of the journey to the temple in silence, and only _now_ that bothered her?

"Yes. You're thinking too hard, I can tell." She pointed to between her eyes, indicating that he'd been frowning. She had once told him that his default expression was one of a man whose head was filled with air and serenity, so if he didn't look anything like a tranquilised mental patient something had to be up.

"It's this scroll," he said, forcefully switching his mind back onto the subject he _should _have been worrying about. "I don't know how much use it's going to be. The analyst in Konoha might not be able to tell us much."

"Give it here." He handed it into her outstretched hand and she unravelled it smartly, looking at the words as if she were a studious scholar. He knew she was anything but.

"Looks like a woman wrote it," she said.

"How could you possibly tell that?" he demanded, exasperated with the way she plucked these theories of hers out of thin air.

She gave him an incredulous scowl. "It's obvious!" she exclaimed. "Look at these loopy, slanting characters. It screams meekness and femininity."

He took the scroll back. "It reads like an egomaniacal psychopathic with an overly dramatic flourish," he pointed out.

"Egomaniacal psychopaths and femininity are not mutually exclusive," she retorted. "And _don't_ say it."

"Say what?"

"That I'm a perfect example," she huffed.

"Of course not," he said. "There's nothing feminine about _you_."

"Ooh," she hissed, eyes narrowing to slits. Minato turned away so she wouldn't see the terrible smirk breaking across his face, and almost at once he felt a weight land on his back as arms looped around his neck. Kushina's hair splayed across his cheek and her mouth nudged his ear. "You sure about that?"

Well, there was no denying the soft parts of her squashed against his back that were making his face feel rather hot and flushed, but Minato continued walking in resilience. His feet sank a little deeper into the moss with the added weight of his girlfriend. "Pretty sure, yep."

Her teeth nipped his ear. "You sure you're sure?"

"Kushina!" He dropped her to the ground and whirled on her, though she was a picture of wide-eyed innocence. "You're a real pervert, you know that, right?"

She looked off into the trees like an easily distracted child while he self-consciously rubbed his ear. "There's a time and a place for that kind of thing, and since the last time this happened I got shot by a jet of water with extreme prejudice, maybe you should be more considerate towards me?"

At once Kushina darted forward and tackled him into a bed of ferns. Minato had barely the breath to gasp in shock when her hand clapped over his mouth. From the way she pressed a finger to his lips, he figured she wasn't trying to be kinky; she was trying to keep him quiet. After a moment he heard it too – the faint thrash of bracken as something lumbered through the undergrowth.

"You have ears like a bat," he whispered to her. "What is that?"

There were all kinds of wild animals in these woods and most of them were deadly. In Minato's experience the ones you had to watch out for were the small, poisonous ones like the snakes and the spiders. The larger animals like tigers and the occasional forest rhinoceros were pretty deadly in their own right, but easy enough to avoid. Hardly call to dive into the bushes like frightened rabbits.

He almost thought it an overreaction on Kushina's part – until he heard the voices. Then he had to amend his previous assessment that she had ears like a bat; Kushina had ears like a bat with a hangover. He gently pushed her off him and rose up slightly to look over the fallen log they'd landed beside. In the far distance through the thickest growth of trees he could see movement. Sandy uniforms, the colour of parched rock, flickered in and out of sight, accompanied by the rolling black pelt of something much bigger moving amongst them.

"Iwa nin," he whispered.

"That's got to be a summon," Kushina whispered back. "What do we do?"

"They're heading east," he said, which was precisely the same direction they were going. "We'll have to stop them."

"There's, like, twenty of them," Kushina sighed. "Not including that giant summon they've got."

Minato nodded. "That's fine. Ten for you, ten for me. And between us I'm sure we can take down that monster."

Kushina snorted indelicately. "How about twenty for you and I'll deal with that summon?"

"Think you can manage it?" he asked, surprised.

She gave him a look that strongly suggested he take his concern elsewhere before she told him to shove it in a very uncomfortable place. So maybe he could be a little patronising sometimes, quite unintentionally, but this time he felt it was a little warranted. Even _he_ would think twice before taking on a full sized summon.

"Needle formation?" he asked her.

They waited until the bulk of the group was moving away from them before they hunched low and circled around them from behind to close in. The estimate of twenty wasn't far off. Up close, Minato counted eighteen, but the summon gave him pause. Larger and hairier than a mammoth, it seemed to mostly consist of one enormously bushy tail, until by chance it swung its head to the side and he caught sight of a long, tubular nose.

An anteater. Not the most ferocious looking of animals, but the curved claws it walked on like sharpened, steel knuckles could easily tear a man apart if he got too close. Or a woman for that matter. Minato glanced worriedly at Kushina; she returned it with a huff of determination.

He gave the signal. At once Kushina drew back, allowing Minato to charge ahead. Grabbing kunai from their holsters, he fell upon the man bringing up the rear, smashing him face first into the ground. His cry of alarm and pain alerted his comrades who turned, too slowly, and the closest three jerked back as Minato's kunai found their mark in each of their throats.

A shout rose instantly above the crunching trundle of the summon. "It's Konoha!"

Shuriken whistled through the air and struck the ground where Minato had been standing; he rolled to a stop on one knee. Behind him, Kushina shot into sight, her feet flying through the ferns before landing squarely on his shoulder, and as he rose she jumped, leaping through the air to land halfway up the summon's mountainous rump. It was beginning to react to the attack, but like most beasts its size it was difficult to manoeuvre in thick forest cover.

"There's only two of them!" someone shouted. "Stop the girl!"

The Iwa nin turned to aim their attacks at Kushina. Minato dodged forward, released a streaming wind jutsu that knocked over enough men to distract the rest, giving Kushina enough time to scramble up on top of the mammoth creature and almost out of sight.

A thick hand seized Minato's wrist as another ploughed into his stomach, bending him double. Outnumbered. He was definitely outnumbered. He kicked up his leg to crack his foot against his attacker's head, but not a moment later he was thrown back – the earth underneath him ejecting him like a spring.

"The girl! Stop the girl!"

A strangled yowl filled the air as the summon thrashed, sweeping its tail across the clearing it had made. Iwa nin flew left and right, and Minato sprang into a tree, out of range. What was she doing to that thing? He paused a moment to look across at her, straddling the back of the anteater and performing some kind of jutsu with one hand as she clung on for dear life with the other. But the Iwa nin who had not been bowled aside didn't let up. One picked up a stone and threw it at him – easy enough to dodge if it hadn't splintered into tiny bullet-like fragments. Minato grabbed a tagged kunai and leapt clear, and as he fell towards the group that prepared to meet him with all their sharp, shiny weapons, he twisted in midair and threw the kunai up into the sky as hard as he could.

The Iwa nin may have been astonished that the man readily falling on their swords suddenly vanished. In truth, Minato was still falling. As the kunai he threw reached its zenith in the sky, he appeared and caught it, and before he could fall too far he threw it again, higher still. The clearing retreated below, until he could look down upon the giant anteater among the trees where it looked no bigger than a rodent thrashing around in the grass.

As he began to fall back to earth he had time to gather the tagged kunai from his pouch and throw a handful ahead of him. They would strike the ground before he did, but not by much, and the Iwa nin were waiting for him.

With a final scream the anteater rose up on its hind legs and swung its forearms wide, severing trees all around it with its scythe-like claws. Kushina tumbled down its back, dismounted, but whatever she had done worked and a moment later the great summon vanished, leaving the clearing much sparser.

The ground rushed closer to Minato, but his kunai landed first with a hail of thuds. _There._ The men waiting for him witnessed his disappearance yet again. But this time they were too late.

_Flash_. Minato struck one from behind, jamming his parrying kunai into his spine and ripping it sideways. _Flash_. Before the first even realised he was fatally injured Minato struck another, puncturing the back of his skull and swung around to stab a third in the stomach. _Flash_. He leapfrogged over Kushina to slash the throat of the man she'd tripped behind her. _Flash._ He snapped the neck of a man standing at the edge of the clearing and threw two kunai hard and true into the backs of a pair who were still staring at the last place he'd appeared.

The clearing was being decimated. Eighteen men were reduced in seconds and Kushina had stopped dead in the middle of it, listening to one cry after another as their enemy fell. The last of them was rightly terrified but was standing too far out of range of Hiraishin for Minato to sneak up on.

Tossing his kunai aside, Minato selected a new one that wasn't quite so slippery with blood and stalked towards his final target with the single-minded purpose of a clean finish. This last enemy would no longer resist. He'd been utterly demoralised and horrified with the rapid elimination of his team and now as he saw Minato coming towards him his legs failed and he attempted to crawl backwards, stuttering pleas and holding his hands out in supplication.

Minato wasn't cruel. He lifted his hand, intending to strike him dead with one blow of the kunai between his eyes.

He was stopped when the two hands he loved seized him by the arm and pulled him up short. He paused and looked down at Kushina's stark white face. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

He blinked. "What?"

"He's begging for mercy!" she cried out.

Minato looked at the Iwa nin. If he _had_ been begging for mercy he had now taken Kushina's timely interruption as a cue to escape and was now scrambling away over the lumpy terrain like a man running from hell itself. "He's getting away," Minato pointed out patiently. "He's going to rejoin the rest of his forces, regroup, and tell them-"

"Tell them what?" Kushina threw her hands wide. "Minato, you killed them all!"

"It was necessary-"

"It's mindless!" she shouted. "You didn't have to do this! We could have stunned them and destroyed their gear, forcing them to retreat!"

"Taking twice the risk and the effort so that they can return to fight another day?" He scoffed at her.

"Afraid you can't handle that?"

"That's not a reasonable solution, Kushina – this is war."

She gave a growl of frustration and shoved him in the chest, forcing him back a step. "Slaughter is not reasonable! You're making sure it definitely becomes a war by doing things like this – you of all people have the choice of mercy and you throw it away because you think _this_ is neater!" She gestured at the clearing. Blood was saturating the earth now, and those who weren't already dead were close to it, and their last rattling gasps and splutters as their bodies failed were quite the opposite of 'neat'.

He shook his head. "You're too much of an idealist."

"And you're _warped_!" she shot back.

"I'm a shinobi – and so are you in case you've forgotten. This is what we do."

"Bull! I've never met two people who could agree on the purpose of a shinobi – this is just what _you've_ chosen to do! You don't give a damn about anyone so it doesn't matter to you that these men are not wooden targets, or that they have families, or that they might be conscripts, or wishing they were somewhere else! It doesn't matter to you that one day it might be you who needs the mercy you deny everyone, or that every person you kill might lead another to vengeance against you!"

"If you agree to go on missions with me, you agree to play by my rules," he said shortly. "I don't care if you want to pick up everyone I knock down, you _don't_ tell me how to do my job and I won't tell you to stop being such a wet blanket."

"I think you just did!" she snarled.

"This isn't up for debate," he told her. "If you don't want to kill, why did you even become a shinobi?"

"Because where _I _come from, a shinobi is synonymous with 'protector' not 'killer'," she lectured. "And what the hell do you want to become Hokage for if you're just going to keep up the same old feuds? You told me you wanted peace but this isn't how you buy peace!"

He frowned at her. "What would you know about peace? You're telling me to follow Whirlpool's example when they turned on one another and slaughtered their own people? _Real_ superior, huh?"

Kushina folded her arms tightly across her chest and stared glassily at him. "I'm not going to talk to you anymore," she said with quiet finality.

Thank heavens for small mercies, he thought unkindly, although when Kushina chose to sulk she could do so for a very long time. "You do that," he said. "In the mean time will you at least help me check over the bodies before we go on? There might be something useful among them."

Even if Kushina wasn't willing to talk to him, she carried out his orders, reluctantly picking over the corpses and prodding them with her toes. Her mood worsened naturally, as she came across their totems of loved ones and homes, and in the end there was nothing of use to be found. They left the bodies for the crows or their comrades, whichever came first, and continued homeward in fuming silence.

* * *

The first coffins had already arrived before them. They had planned to head straight for the Hokage tower to present their findings to the Hokage, but the sight of the caskets lined up just inside the gate made them pause. There were six in total.

More were sure to come. When Minato spoke to one of the jonin standing over them, he learned he too had been in the Heiou valley last night.

"The forest fires were set by Iwa," the jonin said. "They like to clear the land before they take it so they have the territorial advantage. We were ambushed and outnumbered, and as of now they've taken the west side of the valley. The Hokage figured as much. But hopefully they won't cross the river before we've mustered more man-power."

"And girl-power," Kushina reminded.

The jonin ignored her. "It's going to take everything we've got just to push them back into the neutral region. If Kumo attacks now-"

"It hasn't come to that yet." Minato interrupted. He found no use in worrying about things that hadn't happened yet. "We'll recoup."

"That's easy for you to say. Yasuri's team was completely wiped out." The man wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. It wasn't hot, but he was sweating nonetheless. "It's a complete mess. We're too unprepared."

"Negativity won't help, at least."

"Even from one jonin to another? You know the stakes as well as I do."

"Some chunin are known for their long ears," he said, glancing back at Kushina who was staring at them unrepentantly.

"Yeah, well she can thank her sensei for this," said the jonin, giving her one decidedly dirty look. "These deaths are on his head."

Kushina's mouth dropped open, and her gasp of outrage was very audible. If Minato didn't intercede he had no doubt he would witness a repeat of the last time someone had insulted Sakumo, and he wasn't in the mood to pick up teeth from the ground right now. "This wasn't Sakumo's fault," Minato said shortly. "You should know better."

"You may be a jonin, but you're still a kid," the jonin snapped. "The White Fang threw the mission to save a couple of necks and now _they_ have paid for it!" he jabbed his finger at the coffins in emphasis.

"Iwa's invasion was inevitable," Minato said.

"Their collusion with Kumo was not! Our forces are split thin because we got the word earlier this morning that Kumo troops have been seen moving through the mountains towards our border. If you think they're not going to attack, you're crazy."

Minato started. "We need to block the pass." Having spent two years in those mountains, he knew them like the back of his hand. Working out contingency plans in the event of an invasion had occupied most of his time up there.

"It's already being worked on. You see, some of us have actually been _working_, not skipping around the countryside visiting temples."

Minato met the jonin's eye steadily before he turned and walked away without another word. Kushina immediately fell into step beside him. "You shouldn't let him talk to you like that," she told him. "They'll never respect you."

He shrugged. "Six people are dead. I think it's understandable he's a little upset right now."

"Way more than six people are dead, but I guess we're not counting the ones who aren't from Konoha," she said pointedly, and then her shoulders slumped in something a little more despairing. "This _isn't_ Sensei's fault."

"I know," he sighed, reaching out to cross his arm around her shoulder and pull her close, their earlier tiff forgotten. "People are scared right now, but they'll see clearly soon."

Kushina twisted her bottom lip between her fingers worriedly. "I should go see him... let him know we're back."

"You think he's heard about these deaths?" Minato asked her.

"I don't know, but if he has," she broke off and shook her head. "Everyone's going to be hard on him for this, but that's nothing compared to how hard Sensei is on himself. I'll meet you later. You'll tell me what the Hokage says about the scroll?"

"Sure. And if you see Kakashi, tell him I'll be mentoring him from now on." He forced a smile and a friendly wave as she left, but the moment she was gone he privately heaved a sigh.

Kushina wasn't a worrier by nature, but the way she spoke about Sakumo now made her sound like an overly anxious daughter to a sick father. Their colleagues were taking their frustration at a potentially hopeless situation out on the man for a mistake that at any other time would have landed him with letters of commendation. Not everyone blamed him... but enough. In desperate times even the most cohesive fighting force could split along ideological lines, between those who demanded life be prioritised at all costs, and those saw the value in sacrificing a few for a mission to save many. There were more of the latter than Minato had ever realised.

The Hokage had been wrong to bend to their fear and hatred, however. Barring one of their best jonin from service did not protect Konoha, and it certainly did no comfort to Sakumo. Kushina would do her best to cheer him up, but something had to be done. It was an injustice as far as Minato was concerned, and as Sakumo had once said, if he was not angered or motivated by injustice, what good was he?

If only Minato knew how to help. He didn't have the power to change people's opinions with a wave of his hand, and he didn't think Kushina's approach of simply beating sense into them had done much good so far.

When he arrived at the Hokage's office and announced himself to the aide, he was waved straight through. He realised why when he saw the man standing with the Hokage behind his desk.

"Ah – and here he is now!" Jiraiya beamed at him proudly. "Sensei was just telling me what the hell's been biting Orochimaru for the past week."

Minato paused. "Excuse me?"

"See? He's so polite," Jiraiya nudged the Hokage. "You made the right choice. Much better than Oro-chan."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," said the Hokage, raising his hands as if that might slow down his student. "I do recall saying my decision hung on whether or not Minato could prove himself. Speaking of which, do you have anything for me?"

Minato nodded and presented the black scroll, rolling it open on the desk between them. "I found this in the vault where the Nidaime's forbidden scrolls should have been. They're missing and this was found in its place."

Jiraiya and the Hokage bent to examine it, respectively confused and curious. Minato could see the Hokage's lips move as he read the words over before he uttered them faintly beneath his breath. "...the world will know immortality once again."

"Minato? What is this?" Jiraiya asked, scratching his shaggy head.

"The thief left it behind, and I'm pretty sure this is the same guy behind the abductions."

"Still on about that, huh?" Jiraiya gave him a sideways smirk.

Minato returned it. "It's important, Sensei."

"Konoha's important," Jiraiya corrected, moving into teacher mode. "If Kumo or Iwa have a problem with this guy, they should be hunting him themselves."

"Innocent lives matter, wherever they happen to be born," Minato said, although the conviction in his tone had begun to fade. Hadn't he just wiped out nearly twenty Iwa nin today without hesitation or question, for the simple fact that they had been on the wrong side of the border? To his own ears he sounded like a hypocrite.

_But it's different,_ he told the part of himself that had begun to sound like Kushina when she wasn't around. _They weren't innocent_.

Even so, Jiraiya was impressed. "See, Sensei? He comes out with gems like that all the time, and sometimes I think he even believes them."

The Hokage didn't appear to be listening. He had picked up the thin parchment of the scroll and was gazing at it with a frown of deep consternation. "Immortality...?" he muttered to himself, something strange and painful flickering across his face. "This writing..."

"Sensei?" Jiraiya called, noticing he'd withdrawn.

"Yes. _Hem._" The Hokage sat down and rolled the scroll shut with one efficient stroke. "Thank you for your service, Minato. I think it's time to release you from this obligation. You should rejoin the other jonin and report to the administration office for deployment."

Minato blinked rapidly, taken aback. "But... I thought you wanted me to find this guy."

"I think I'll take it from here," Sarutobi explained.

"With all due respect, Hokage-sama, you're very busy right now. I don't think you'll have the time to complete the investigation, and apart from this note I'm not much closer-"

"You've done enough," the Hokage interrupted sternly. "You've been of great help, but I will take things from here. Please do not trouble yourself with this matter any further. Now, I have a meeting in a few minutes, so you if you both don't mind...?"

Jiraiya shrugged and headed for the door. Minato stayed rooted to the spot. "But I need to debrief you about an Iwa team I met-"

"You can debrief the strategists at the administration office. At times of war, jonin are no longer required to report every little incident to the Hokage." The Hokage was pulling paperwork toward him, making it perfectly clear Minato's time was running short.

"I was hoping to speak to you about Hatake Sakumo as well-"

"I'm holding off the demotion for as long as I can, but I can make no promises."

"No, Hokage-sama, he should be on the mission roster. He doesn't deserve to be grounded-"

"This is not the time, Minato!" The Hokage shouted, slamming his hand down on the desk, silencing the younger jonin in an instant. Minato had never witnessed him lose his temper, and from the way Jiraiya paused in the doorway, it was a revelation to him too. "I have been through this with you and every other complainer! If I'm not being told to throw him out the village, I'm being told to give him a gold medal – and there are more important things at stake right now. Sakumo must wait. Now please leave."

Chastened, Minato bowed stiffly and followed Jiraiya out. His sensei ruffled his hair compassionately as the door all but kicked them on the way. "Don't feel bad, kid," he said. "We lost some good people last night, and hearing his Sensei's technique was stolen of all things, well, that's probably the last thing he wanted to hear right now."

"Do you think he'll really follow up on this lead?" Minato asked, not too confident of the way he'd been rapidly dismissed.

"After this guy stole his own Sensei's jutsu?" Jiraiya puffed up his cheeks and blew out a sigh. "He'll catch him. It's personal now."

Well, when he put it like that...

"I'm going to find Kushina," Minato told him.

"Kushina! Why am I not surprised?" Jiraiya looked at him wryly. "If there were two people more joined at the hip, I'm not sure I'd want to know."

"She's my best friend," Minato said, shrugging, "and I told her I'd keep her up to date."

"Sure," grunted Jiraiya, "but enjoy your manhood while it lasts. She'll take it from you eventually – all women do if you let them"

Minato had to roll his eyes. "Right, Sensei, I'll keep that in mind-"

"Oh, and speak of the deviless herself," grinned Jiraiya, pointing. "Look who – hey, what's she got there?"

Kushina was hurrying towards them across the street, calling Minato's name. In her arms she carried a heavy bundle of what appeared to include her own vest, and as she drew closer Minato realised she was holding a small child.

"What's going on?" he asked her, as she all but ran into them in her haste.

"I was going to Sensei's house," she explained in a rush, out of breath, "I passed the timber yard – saw her – I thought she was asleep, but when I tried to wake her – look!"

Kushina pulled aside the vest she had wrapped around the small girl, showing him the alarming bright streak of blood running from her neck and soaking her front. Her skin was pallid and rubbery to look at, and Kushina was almost as pale. "She won't wake up and I can barely feel a pulse," she said. "We have to get her to the hospital."

"Give her here," commanded Jiraiya, scooping the girl out of her arms as if she weighed little more than the clothes she was wrapped in. "What would I give to have Tsunade back right about now...? Come on. Quickly."

With his long strides, Jiraiya was difficult to keep up with once he got going. Minato hurried after him. "Who is she?" he asked Kushina. "Was she attacked or-"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head emphatically. "I just found her like that, but I know who she is. I've seen her before."

"Anko," Jiraiya tossed over his shoulder. "She's Orochimaru's student."

"His student...?" repeated Minato.

He had to admit that once they reached the hospital, Minato found himself a little redundant. The emergency unit was brimming with the men and women who had returned from last night's incursion with injuries ranging from light abrasions to serious internal bleeding. There was hardly a bed to spare, let alone a doctor, but Jiraiya was known to have a very commanding presence. He towered over everyone else in the unit and when a medic attempted to duck around him, Jiraiya collared him easily. "This girl needs help," he said.

The medic attempted to back away. "I already have three patients I need to-"

"Now!" It was Kushina this time, proving she could just as easily rival the commanding power of a giant sannin like Jiraiya.

Minato wondered if it was already too late. The girl hadn't made a sound or so much as moved the whole way to the hospital, and as the medic laid her down on a gurney and began the first rudimentary examinations, there didn't seem to be much life left in her. "She has a pulse," said the medic a little helplessly. "Where are this girl's parents?"

"She doesn't have any," said Jiraiya. "Orochimaru is the closest thing she has to a guardian, I suppose."

"He should be brought here immediately," the medic said, delicately swabbing the wound on the little girl's neck.

"What's happened to her?" Kushina asked anxiously.

The medic pushed up his glasses, peering close at his patient. "She has puncture wounds on her neck. Bitten? I wonder... what are these marks?"

The three ninja leaned forward curiously. Amidst the drying blood and the two oozing holes in her neck were other marks that Minato might have mistaken for bruises, except they were too regular. Three marks, forming a ring around the broken skin, like commas. "That's a triple tomoe," said Minato. "A ninjutsu mark?"

Kushina's eyes snapped up to his. "Someone did this to her?"

The medic's hand glowed with a faint yellow chakra as he moved it over the wound, "As far as I can tell, it feels like some kind of venomous chakra. I've never seen anything like it, but it's spreading from this mark," he said.

"Can't you stop it?" Kushina asked, hesitantly reaching out to run a comforting hand over the girl's head, though it was doubtful she could feel anything.

"Anti-venoms won't work against a jutsu," said Jiraiya grimly. "A ninjutsu that imitates poison is something that can only be stopped if it's removed, but I suppose only the person who did this to her could undo it."

"Could it be sealed?" Minato suggested.

Jiraiya winced. "Maybe. I don't know any sealing techniques that would work, Minato... and the only person I can think of who might is the Hokage, and he's a tad busy right now."

Kushina had been listening to their exchange quietly, and as they lapsed into baffled silence, she finally spoke up. "I think I could do it."

The medic adjusted his glasses incredulously. Jiraiya simply stared. Minato tilted his head. "What?" he said faintly.

"A seal to contain chakra?" she asked. "I think I can do that."

"Since when?" Minato was pretty familiar with most of Kushina's jutsu, as well as her style. Surely he would have heard before now if she was proficient with seals – something that was more academically demanding than he thought Kushina was interested in.

"My father _was_ the best master of sealing techniques in the world," she said, somewhat archly at his blatant disbelief. "I know some of his work."

"But I thought you said his work was..." He stopped himself short, knowing they weren't alone. The fact that her father's techniques had been sealed in _her_ was a village secret, and it was something she had sworn never to undo. Had she gone back on that? It seemed unlikely that she'd picked up any of her father's techniques as a small child before the man had died and she had arrived in Konoha. If she'd learnt them, she'd learnt them recently.

Why hadn't she told him?

"I can do this," she said again. "I just need some time and space and, um, privacy."

"Are you sure, Kushina?" Jiraiya asked her, uncertain but not as if he desperately mistrusted her, which was rather generous, Minato thought.

"I can only seal the chakra and I don't know if it would save her, but I want to try."

"Can you really do this?" Minato cut in again. "I've never seen you use sealing jutsu."

"How did you think I dealt with that summon?" she asked in response. "I used a contract seal to break its contract with the summoner and dismissed it myself."

"But you said you would never release your father's techniques. When did you learn these things?"

"I'll... tell you later, ok?" she said quietly.

Jiraiya clapped his hand on Minato's shoulder. "Come on, let's give her some privacy and I'll go inform Orochimaru about what's happened," he said.

"Minato," Kushina called after him. "Could you go see Sensei? Tell him I'm back and I'll come by later?"

"I really don't think he'd want to see me," Minato mumbled.

She clasped her hands together for him. "Please. Just keep him company." Then she turned away and began dictating her demands to the bemused medic. "I'll need a bigger room, and a brush, and you'll have to go away too..."

She appeared to know what she was doing and Jiraiya was already dragging him out by that vice-like grip on his shoulder.

"Sometimes I wonder if I really know her," Minato sighed.

"Yes, well," Jiraiya shrugged, for once not interested in commenting on the mysterious ways of women. "I need to find Orochimaru. That bastard is supposed to be looking after her, not leaving her to run wild. I'll have to inform the Hokage as well; if she was attacked by Iwa nin then we can safely say there are already spies in the village. And if it wasn't Iwa nin...? Damnit, what's going on?"

"I'd come with you, but... Sakumo."

"Yes, I know. She's right, you should go check on him."

"She's really worried about him," Minato agreed.

"With good reason. I'd go see him myself if not for this," Jiraiya said, shaking his shaggy head sadly. "But be careful around him, Minato. This is a very difficult time for him."

"I'll catch up to you later," Minato waved and headed off.

He'd been assigned a mission, and a simple one – check on Sakumo and keep his spirits up. Yet the whole way his head was full of other concerns; the Hokage's reaction to the scroll, the coffins by the gate, that poor girl whose life was now potentially in Kushina's hands, and Kushina herself. Sealing techniques were difficult and required immense study before they could be implemented. When had she the time to learn these things? Was she teaching herself or was she being tutored? Sakumo seemed a possible bet, but then Minato had always wondered what it was Kushina got up to when she had clandestine appointments with the Hokage's wife, Biwako.

It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. Kushina was not obligated to inform him about everything she got up to, though it shook Minato's confidence that he was the one person who knew her better than anyone else.

These days he was getting the increasing feeling that Kushina simply did not trust him as completely as he trusted her.

Minato made an effort to put his worries aside when he reached Sakumo's house, because compared to this man's problems, his own seemed pretty trifling. What Sakumo needed now was a friend, and although Minato was quite sure he was the last person on earth Sakumo would consider a friend, he felt he owed it to him. It was him who had recovered the intel that had led Sakumo to take his mission, and perhaps if Minato had taken everyone's advice to back down and let them handle it, Sakumo wouldn't be in disgrace right now. Or maybe they would have attempted to storm Kumo's base and been slaughtered by A?

Every decision came with risks, he knew that. It was easy to blame yourself when things went wrong, but he couldn't fall into the same trap as Sakumo and take every consequence upon himself.

The front door was slightly ajar when Minato came to it , and he knocked on it politely as he pushed it open. "Anyone home?" he called cheerfully, stepping onto the creaking floorboards of the threshold. "Sakumo-sensei? Kakashi?"

He received no reply. The house was unnaturally still, and he wondered if they'd gone out or he'd caught Sakumo asleep in bed. His gaze roved the hall and he called again, this time up the stairs. When still no one replied, he began to turn around in confusion. Surely they wouldn't have gone out and left the door open like that.

Then through the archway into the living room he saw Kakashi. The boy was sitting against the wall, looking at something across the room out of Minato's line of sight, so completely motionless and silent that Minato could have looked right at him and still missed him if he was a less attentive person. "Kakashi," he called, a smile breaking out across his face. "Are you deaf or something? Why didn't you answer me?"

Kakashi turned his dark eyes slowly to Minato and offered no greeting or explanation. He simply sat listlessly, clutching something in his lap.

"What have you got there?" Minato asked him, crossing the archway into the living room.

He stopped dead when the sweet stink of human blood and offal hit him. Close enough now, he could see that the thing Kakashi held was a dagger; its blade coated with the same sticky red blood that covered Kakashi's knees and hands. And as if Minato wasn't there, Kakashi's eyes slipped from him again, returning to what had previously occupied his attention. Minato followed his gaze, heart thumping loudly in his ears.

Sakumo was curled up in the middle of the floor, his back to Minato and Kakashi, and looking for all the world as if he'd fallen asleep there in the same sleeping yukata he and Kushina had left him in. The thick stain of blood spreading through the tatami mat beneath him told differently. The smile slipped from Minato's face as he moved toward him, knowing exactly what he was looking at and still unable to comprehend. His senses had to be lying to him...

He crouched next to Sakumo, mindful not to kneel in the blood like Kakashi had done, and reached out to lay his fingers across his neck. But he didn't need to test for a pulse. Sakumo was cold. It was as if he was touching nothing more than a slab of meat, and the blood that had spilled from his stomach had congealed. There was nothing that could be done or said. Even if the best medic in the world was standing here instead of Minato it would have been too late. It was already over. The note of explanation lay in Sakumo's hand, sealing the situation with his own signature.

The most powerless person in the world would have understood how he felt then. Death was something he knew well, intimately so, and he'd seen comrades fall right before his eyes in the last war and had watched how a person could be transformed into nothing but a body. There was a certain acceptance of that out in a battlefield, but to see such a quietly violent scene in the safety and peacefulness of the home...?

For it to be Sakumo?

Minato's hand lifted away from his neck, and he paused, watching how his own fingers shook. What was he supposed to do now? What was he going to tell Kushina? What was he going to do with Kakashi? Was there a will? _Why had he done this?_ Minato squeezed his hand tight into a fist and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, the trembling had stopped for good. He knew what had to be done.

* * *

TBC


	25. Twice Shy

A/N: Oddly, has an option to list fics as either following the manga or anime but since it doesn't actually show up anywhere on the actual fic, I'll just leave it here that the canon I've bastardised is sourced from the manga. I don't watch the anime, so any events here that were covered in the fillers is unknown to me, i.e. Anko's back-story.

* * *

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twenty-Five: Twice Shy

* * *

"Kakashi, come with me."

Dark, bleak eyes shifted to Minato's outstretched hand, regarding it as something strange and foreign to him. After a moment he dismissed it and returned his gaze to his father's motionless form in the middle of the living room floor.

"You can't sit here forever, Kakashi," Minato said gently, "and we're only going to the kitchen."

Ever so slowly, Kakashi relaxed a little, lifting his hand to place it into Minato's. It was cold and crusted with dried blood, but Minato held it tight and pulled the boy carefully to his feet. Never before had a simple trip to the kitchen felt like such an important journey, and almost at once Kakashi stumbled dizzily and dropped back to his knees. A moment later, he was throwing up on the floor.

Minato waited for the wretches seizing his small body to subside and just as Kakashi looked ready to sink back to the floor in a daze, Minato scooped him up beneath the arms and carried him into the kitchen. He kicked the door shut to the living room and planted Kakashi on the counter beside the sink. There were no clean glasses in the cupboards so he rinsed one out and filled it with water. "Wash your mouth out with this," he said. "Then drink it slowly."

Kakashi obeyed mechanically, holding the glass in one hand as the other remained tightly fastened around the hilt of the bloody dagger. When Minato reached out to try and relieve it from him, Kakashi jerked it closer so violently Minato feared he would cut himself.

"Did you take that off your father?" he asked him, easing back.

The boy stared guardedly. "It's mine."

"Yours?" Minato tilted his head questioningly. "It looks like your father's sabre."

Kakashi looked at it as well, silent for a moment. "Dad said it used to be his father's and his grandfather's, and that one day it would be mine," he looked stolidly at Minato. "So it's mine now."

"The police will probably want to have a look at it," Minato warned him.

A touch of uncertainty pinched the corners of Kakashi's eyes. "I didn't do it."

"No, I know." Minato smiled slightly and rubbed a hand over the boy's head. "How long were you sitting there?"

If Kakashi knew the answer to this, he didn't give it; instead he returned his gaze to his father's sabre, or perhaps it was the blood that held his attention. It wasn't right for a child so young to be sitting there with hands covered in his own father's blood, but if taking the weapon off him would only cause distress, Minato didn't know what else to do. He filled the sink with warm water and handed a bar of soap to Kakashi. "Use this," he said, hoping he would. "Where does your dad keep his note paper?"

He realised he had used the present tense and he wondered if Kakashi noticed or cared. The situation felt far too surreal. He needed paper to send a message reporting the incontrovertible fact of Sakumo's sudden death and he still spoke as if the man was only momentarily absent.

Regarding the soap bar impassively, Kakashi pointed to a drawer in the kitchen table. Inside were all the pens and notepad paper Minato needed and he sat down to scratch out a simple message. Oddly, he felt no rush. None whatsoever. It didn't matter if help came now or in an hour or in ten hours. Sakumo was already gone and nothing was going to change that. He could sit there and choose his words carefully, mull over them once, and twice, and realise that once this message got out there would be no turning back. Right now it was just him and Kakashi sitting in the kitchen, and once he sent this message the house would soon be swarming. As far as the rest of the village was concerned right now, Hatake Sakumo was still alive... Minato almost felt like keeping hold of this note might even make it true for a little while longer.

Gradually he came to notice he'd been staring at his completed note for several minutes. Kakashi hadn't moved even once in that time, and Minato gradually forced himself back into motion, gathering the summoning scroll from his pouch to call up the fastest toad he held contract with.

When it appeared with a puff on the kitchen table, Kakashi's gaze flicked up briefly, but even the appearance of a bright yellow amphibian could not hold his attention.

"I need you to take this note to the military police department, Gama-tchin" Minato said quietly, "Please emphasise the request for discretion... you know what they're like."

The toad saluted and disappeared in a whirlwind. It would only take a few minutes for the message to be received, and then perhaps half an hour or more for the military police department to arrive. It was going to be unpleasant and Minato looked at Kakashi, wondering if he should get the boy out of the house and spare him the prolonged procedure.

But he doubted Kakashi was ready to move anywhere yet. He still had not washed the blood from his hands.

Minato pushed his chair back and the legs protested loudly against the floor in such a silent house. In two strides he cross to the sink, pulled the sabre from Kakashi's hands and placed it on the counter. Kakashi flinched and began to reach for it, but Minato seized his wrists firmly and pushed them into the water. The loamy soap suds shrank and faded and wreaths of blood filled the clear water, turning it red. That was when Minato realised not all the blood was Sakumo's – Kakashi had been clutching the actual blade of the sabre so tightly it had cut into his palm in several places. Never once did Kakashi wince in pain, nor did he resist as Minato dried him with a towel and hunted down the first-aid drawer to begin applying antiseptic cream and clean gauze.

"You're being very brave," he commented, watching Kakashi's strangely blank face. "But it's ok to be upset."

"Shinobi must abandon their emotions," Kakashi said, reciting straight from the Grade 1 book of guidelines given to all children in the academy.

Minato paused. "It's just a guideline, Kakashi. No one really believes that anymore." When Kakashi didn't respond, he continued, picking up the bloody sabre to dunk it beneath the water and run the tap over it to remove every last drop of blood.

Kakashi looked at him. "You said the police would want to see it," he said.

"It's yours, isn't it?" Minato responded. He was sure the police could just as easily imagine it covered in blood, and it wasn't like it was a murder weapon. It seemed pretty clear to him what had happened to Sakumo...

Once the sabre was clean and dry, Minato tucked it into Kakashi's belt where it would do the least harm. After helping him off the counter, they sat at the table. "The police will probably want to ask you some questions," he told him. "But if you like, you can talk to me and then I'll talk to them for you."

Kakashi picked at the bandages around his hands diffidently.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

It took so long for Kakashi to look up that Minato initially took his silence as a 'no', but after several long minutes of silence, filled only by the drip of the tap in the sink, Kakashi opened his mouth and took a breath. "He didn't go to bed last night. He stopped tucking me in so I didn't notice until I got up. A man came. He said there were bodies at the gate, loads of them, and that Iwa and the other villages were attacking. His son had died or something, and he said it was Dad's fault. He said Konoha was going to be beaten in this war because of him."

"Who was this?" Minato asked, narrowing his eyes.

Kakashi shrugged. "I was listening from upstairs and I didn't see him. Dad didn't say anything though and he just left. When I went down, Dad was being worse than usual. I tried to give him breakfast but he wouldn't talk to me."

Small hands squeezed convulsively against the table-cloth as annoyance marred Kakashi's features. It was the first emotion Minato had seen from him so far.

"I said he was an idiot and pathetic because he wouldn't defend himself to everyone. I said he was embarrassing me." Kakashi spread his hands flat again to examine the spreading bloodstains beginning to seep through the pristine white gauze. "I went away to see my friends. When I came back, he was like that."

The frustration eased in his face, and he looked up plaintively at Minato. "I think he did it because of me. I made him do it."

From the look on his face, it was clear that Kakashi really believed this and Minato sat stunned, wondering if he might have even been right. No doubt Sakumo had endured terrible blows to his esteem since his mission, and this final act could not be contributed to one single incident... but Minato felt physically sick to think of what it must have been like to be told by his own son that he was a pathetic embarrassment.

Kakashi couldn't have known. A child this young couldn't have even meant it sincerely. And yet Minato could see the incredible guilt he must be enduring right now. He was going to take all the blame for this upon his shoulders...

_Like father like son_, Minato thought with an inward sigh.

"This isn't your fault," Minato told him firmly, as earnestly as he could. "Your dad wasn't well. None of this was because of anything you did or said, believe me."

He hoped that was the right thing to say. Kakashi didn't appear to be any more or less comforted or anguished, and he sat quietly at the table, fiddling with his bandages morosely until through the house they heard a knock on the door. Minato hadn't closed it after him when he'd arrived, and a deep masculine voice soon followed, calling, "Hello? This is the police. We've had a report of an incident at this address."

Minato touched Kakashi's arm gently. "Wait here," he said, offering a reassuring smile. "I'll take care of everything. It'll be alright, Kakashi."

He didn't know it, but Kakashi took one look at his smile and believed him implicitly. Since the moment Minato had stepped into the house, Kakashi had known everything would be alright. His poor flawed father had been the bedrock of his life and without him he felt stranded, left without any ground to walk on, but Minato had always been a more aloof figure, implacable and perfect and the only thing left he had to hold on to.

Kakashi trusted him, and he nodded sombrely as Minato got up. "Yes, Sensei."

Minato passed a hand over his head like Jiraiya still did to him, and left the kitchen to greet the figures looming in the hall. He wasn't overjoyed to see Uchiha Fugaku, though he didn't doubt him professionalism. He was backed up by three other officers, including his wife, Mikoto, who was a far more welcome sight, though there were no smiles exchanged between them as Minato approached.

"What's this about?" Fugaku asked, holding up the note Minato had written. "If this is because of another brick through the window, you can tell old Sakumo to order new glass like everyone else."

Minato's eyebrows lowered a fraction. Perhaps he should have been more specific about his request for assistance; he hadn't realised the police may have been called to this address several times in the recent past over vandalism. "This way," Minato said tightly, leading them into the living room.

Fugaku's expression changed completely the moment he laid eyes on Sakumo. Shock swiftly replaced irritation, only to be just as quickly supplanted by grim inquisitiveness. "I see," he said. Maybe he had more experience with these sorts of scenes that he recognised and accepted what he was looking at far more quickly than Minato. At his shoulder, Mikoto drew in a soft gasp. "Oh no," she whispered, perhaps thinking more of Kushina than for the man on the floor. Fugaku began to cross the room, but paused at the pool of vomit Kakashi had left behind. "What's this?"

Minato shook his head. "Kakashi..." he said simply.

"The kid saw this? Shit."

"He's in the kitchen," Minato explained.

Fugaku nodded once at Mikoto, who immediately went to the kitchen door and let herself in. Minato was a little relieved. Kakashi and Mikoto were mildly familiar through their mutual connection to Kushina, and a little feminine support might have been more helpful to the boy right now.

"A suicide?" Fugaku wondered, plucking the note from Sakumo's stiff fingers to read it. He looked down to examine the fatal injury. "Seppuku, huh? It looks self-inflicted, but where's the weapon?"

"Kakashi took it," Minato said. "It was just a knife."

Fugaku sighed loudly. "Kid's messing up my crime scene."

"Then why don't we invite him back in and you can make him apologise?" Minato suggested curtly. "The weapon's not important here."

Fugaku met his glare coolly. "I'll need to question the kid on what he saw."

"You can question me," Minato said. "He's my student, I'm responsible for him and he already told me everything."

So Minato relayed the story, though there wasn't much to tell. Sakumo had been tipped over the edge, either by the visit of the man who had lost a loved one, or by his own son. It seemed inconsequential to worry over the exact reason. The result was the same; Sakumo was dead, and it was by his own hand.

"What if someone arrived after the boy had left?" Fugaku pointed out once Minato had finished. "He wasn't exactly popular, and the suicide note could be forged. Have you read it?"

Fugaku was holding it out, but Minato had been reluctant to pick it up in the first place. He accepted it now and read it because he had to, but he still felt strange, like the man at their feet was not truly dead when Minato could hear his voice inside his own head, speaking the words as he read them.

_Had I known that I was already dead, I would not have mourned my life. May the dead find solace in my company._

Minato released a slightly shaky breath.

"Does it sound like him?" Fugaku wanted to know.

"Maybe." Did Sakumo have a poetic edge? He had no idea.

"Is it even his handwriting?" Fugaku pressed.

"I don't know," Minato said. "You'd have to ask someone who knew him better... you'd have to ask Kushina."

_Oh, Kushina..._ how was he ever going to break this to her?

Apparently Fugaku could read minds, or Minato's face was simply that obvious. "It's our job to inform loved ones of what's happened here," he said with remarkable generosity, though the news was better off coming from someone other than Kushina's own detestable Fugu-face. "But right now we'll have to remove the body and have it autopsied to rule out murder or assassination."

The body. That was all Sakumo was now. Once a person, a familiar presence that had always been in Minato's orbit, terrorising him and inspiring him, and making a permanent mark on his life... now just a thing. An it. A mess to be cleaned up discreetly like the patch of vomit nearby.

"Do what you have to do," Minato said faintly, turning away at last. Fugaku issued orders to his subordinates, asking for body-bags and back-up and a cordon around the house. Pretty soon everyone in the neighbourhood was going to know something was up, and after that the news would spread. _Hatake Sakumo had killed himself_. Everyone who had muttered behind his back and blamed him for the emerging war... would they be satisfied now?

Minato left them to their work and returned to the kitchen where Mikoto was sitting with Kakashi, stroking his hair consolingly, though she appeared more upset than he did. As Minato joined them, Kakashi lifted his gaze to him. "What happens to me now?" he asked frankly.

"Your father will have made a will," Mikoto said, more familiar with the procedure than Minato. "He'll have named a guardian for you. Do you have any aunts or uncles? Grandparents?"

"No," he said simply. "I don't get to choose?"

"You're not of age yet," Minato explained.

Kakashi turned his gaze back to the table. "What if my guardian is the old woman who smells like flu?"

Minato and Mikoto exchanged looks over the top of his head, neither knowing what to say or even think. And between them Kakashi rested his brow against a curled fist and whispered one brokenly, bitter syllable. "_Great._"

* * *

Just as Minato had predicted, once the police cordon went up, the scavengers of gossip began to appear. Neighbours materialised in their windows and doorways, passersby stopped and became bystanders. A crowd was forming. When Minato left he had to make his way through them, and he could tell from their whispers that they'd already figured out what had happened.

"...wonder what will happen to the boy..."

"...they say he's the one who started this trouble with Iwa..."

"Did the only decent thing, if you ask me..."

"Poor man... he was a good neighbour..."

The news was spreading, which was why he had to leave now. Mikoto promised to take care of Kakashi and protect him as best she could from her husband's inquisition, and though Minato would have preferred to stay with Kakashi himself, there was someone else he needed to see. Someone who didn't deserve to hear about Sakumo at the end of a chain of gossip.

She would still be at the hospital. To Minato it may have felt like a whole day or more had passed since they'd parted ways, but the clock tower marked the passage of time as barely more than an hour. So much could happen in such a short time. Minato had to stop when he reached the hospital, separated from the street by its bands of regular lawns, and lean his hand against a utility pole to remind himself that the world wasn't really spinning faster than his feet could keep up with. He could look up and see the clouds skating slowly through the blue sky, and around him civilians drifted about their daily routine, most of them probably still unaware of what was happening at the border or even at the gates of the village.

He was still standing there when he heard his name called. Normally the sound of Kushina's voice made his heart feel lighter; this time it only filled him with dread. He dropped his gaze from the sky to the red-head all but skipping across the lawn towards him. "I did it!" he heard her call. "She's going to be ok – I did it!"

Infectious delight spread across her face in the form of a wide grin, and the sight of it was like a knife through Minato's gut. She ran up to him and grabbed his hands in hers, squeezing them tight, and he attempted a wan smile in return. It was a poor imitation. He should have been pleased for her... instead self-loathing tore at him, knowing that he was going to take that smile from her face and cause he grief.

"What's the matter?" Kushina asked, her smile fading a little as she looked attentively into his face. "Is it about the sealing techniques? I know you're probably really confused right now... I should have told you, I'm sorry."

"No," he said quickly, frowning at the ground. He could never forgive himself for worrying about something as small and petty as sealing techniques today. "No, it's not that."

"Then what?" Her eyes flicked over his face rapidly, searching it for an answer.

Minato took a deep breath. "I went to see Sakumo," he began slowly.

"He wasn't mean to you again, was he?" she sighed. "I told you, you can't take him seriously. He's just moody because-"

"Kushina, no," he interrupted softly. "I went, but when I got there... he was dead, Kushina." He looked up to meet her gaze and saw nothing in her face flickered with surprise or shock... nothing. "He's dead."

Telling her was not the difficult part. It was easy to put into words the facts of what had happened. The hard part was dealing with her reaction, and watching the confusion and denial lock behind her eyes. "What are you talking about?" she said quite calmly. "We spoke to him yesterday."

She pulled her hands away from his and seemed to draw away from him without moving a single step. "He took his life this morning," he told her quietly.

"He wouldn't do that," she said with flat refusal.

"I saw him, Kushina... the police are at his house now with Kakashi."

Something in her expression broke and she gave a start. Was it the mention of the police involvement or just Kakashi? She stepped away from him, looking down at the grass lawn around them as if she didn't understand why she was there, standing on it when she should have been somewhere else. Then she looked past him and began to run.

"Wait – Kushina!" he yelled to no effect. She was tearing away, feet pounding the street as he hair flashed out in streams behind her.

Minato gave chase at once, calling out to her. Kushina was fast when she wanted to be, and Minato had trouble keeping up. She wouldn't slow down even when her flat-heeled pumps flew off her feet in the midst of her reckless dash – in fact she didn't even appear to notice. Minato retrieved one from the middle of the dusty road and the other from over someone's garden wall, and hurried on after her, ignoring the odd looks from pedestrians as he shouted at her stop and think.

The police cordon stood no chance against her. She slammed through the crowd and dashed beneath it without hesitation and was already up the steps of the house by the time the officers registered the breach. Minato had to shout them down, warning them it was ok, though he wondered if it might have been better if they'd intercepted her after all.

Her mad run came to a halt at the archway of the living room. That was where Minato caught up with her, holding her abandoned shoes in his hands and faintly out of breath. "You shouldn't be here," he said.

From inside the living room, Fugaku looked up at them dourly. "No, you shouldn't."

Kushina was staring at the floor... but the body was gone. All that remained now was the thick bloodstain in the mat, so dark it was almost black. "Where is he?" she whispered.

"The coroner's already taken the body away for examination," Fugaku said. "It's on the way to the morgue."

At once Kushina turned and bumped straight into Minato. He caught her shoulders firmly before she could break into another run. "You can't do anything," he whispered.

"I have to see him."

"He's gone."

"No!" she cried, shoving him. "I talked to him _yesterday_! I said I would see him when I got back and – and – he wouldn't _do_ this!"

"Is this not his handwriting?" Fugaku asked, moving toward her with the suicide note outstretched. Kushina jerked around and snatched it from his hand without looking at him. She read it silently, holding it close to her nose. There were only two lines and yet her eyes moved over them back and forth, again and again, trying to take them in.

"Either it is or it isn't," Fugaku repeated with impatience.

"Yes," she said in a low, uncertain voice. "But it doesn't make sense."

Fugaku made no comment. He plucked the note from her rigid fingers and returned it to his pocket, leaving Kushina grasping at nothing. "I don't understand," she whispered, staring at the bloodstained mats. "Why would he do this?"

Minato touched her shoulder, gently guiding her back towards the door. "We should go. There's nothing we can do here." He looked towards the kitchen door, now open, though the room appeared to be empty. "Where's Kakashi?"

Fugaku glanced at him indifferently. "Mikoto took him back to headquarters to see our counsellors," he answered. "She seems to think he needs it, but the kid looks fine to me, all things considered."

If Kakashi was 'fine' in Fugaku's eyes, Minato would have hated to see what he considered to be disturbed. Leaving the man to do his job, he steered Kushina back out into the hall and outside. She was malleable now, following him without question and impervious to the stares of the onlookers outside. He took her hand firmly in his own and led her away from the poisonous atmosphere around the house. "Do you want to go home?" he asked her, worry gnawing at him to see her face so closed and bewildered.

"Yes..." Kushina said faintly, barely hearing him.

Then in the middle of the street, she suddenly stopped. Minato looked back at her and saw her gazing at their joined hands. "This is really happening, isn't it?"

A hard lump rose in his threat. "Yes," he said deeply.

"He's gone. He's dead." Her glassy eyes began to fill and shimmer.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't say goodbye..." She looked up at him and blinked like she had only just realised she wasn't alone, and when she did, tears streaked thickly down her cheeks. "What do I do?" she whispered, mouth beginning to tremble. "His body – the funeral needs to be... what about Kakashi?"

Minato moved closer, running his hands over her arms. "We'll pick up Kakashi from headquarters. I don't care what the legal arrangements will be, for now he can stay with us. Don't worry about anything else." He touched her cheek, pushing the moisture of her tears away, only for fresh ones to fall. "Remember when my father died? I didn't know what to do, but you were like a rock and helped me through it all. This time I'm going to be the rock."

"You're not that strong," she whispered, voice broken with the effort to hold back the hurricane inside her. "I can see you crying too, Minato."

A treacherous tear had escaped the corner of his eye and he dashed it away. He hadn't been immune to seeing Sakumo reduced like that, and seeing Kushina's grief made him feel something he'd certainly never felt when his own father had died. "I can't help it," he admitted.

"Good," she croaked, leaning into him to hide her face against his chest. "It's too easy to forget you're human too sometimes."

That was the last coherent thing she said for quite a while.

* * *

There had never been a more solemn evening than that one. Minato's cooking was never well received, but tonight hardly any of them touched the instant ramen he'd whipped up. Kakashi, freshly rescued from the police, simply stared at his bowl with the same blank expression he'd worn when he'd been staring at his father's body. Kushina, usually so enthusiastic about ramen, attempted a few half-hearted bites before giving up and pushing the noodles around her bowl until the broth went cold. Even Minato was having trouble finding his appetite. One of their number was gone... dead... for good.

None of them really knew how to deal with it.

"Shikaku says that the Hokage will be holding a memorial service tomorrow," Minato told them. "It's for the ones who fell in the first wave, but they're now including Sakumo."

Kushina's chopsticks stabbed at her food. "I'm not going," she said, rubbing eyes that, while dry, had been red and swollen for hours.

"You can't not go," Minato said, dumbfounded. "He was your sensei."

"Memorials are for the living, not the dead, and I have no wish to listen to a mass of hypocrites cry crocodile tears over the man they helped kill," she said acidly. "I can remember him perfectly well without being told to."

"Fine. I'll just take Kakashi and-"

"I'm not going either," said Kakashi evenly.

Minato stared at him. "What? Why?"

With a blasé shrug, Kakashi shook his head. "I don't want to."

Minato looked between his infuriating dinner companions and sighed. "This is how you two want to pay your respects?"

If Kushina had the decency to feel guilt at this comment, she was interrupted by Kakashi's blithe question, "When can I go home?" He used the same tone as a bored child being held against his will.

"You can't," said Kushina, resting her head against her palm. She said no more than that, since it was a question that Kakashi had asked more than once that day, and no one knew what was going to happen to him now.

For now, he was given Minato's bed to sleep in, and although Minato naturally assumed he himself would be taking the sofa, Kushina told him to stop being stupid. There was enough room in her bed for two. On any other night this would have made his heart skip a beat. Tonight, however, his heart was beating more slowly than he'd ever known it to, and lying on a bed beside his girlfriend with an arm looped around her middle was not enough to send his pulse racing when he knew how badly she was hurting.

They lay awake most of the night, lost in their own thoughts. When at last Kushina broke the silence, he had to think hard for a minute to figure out what she had said. "What?" he mumbled, voice rough from lack of use.

Kushina stirred, and turned in the circle of his arm to face him, nose close to his. "Why would he do it?" she whispered again. "I don't understand it."

Minato no more knew the answer to that question than she did. "He was depressed," he said, after a moment of careful deliberation. "Maybe he thought it was the only way out."

"And why would he do this to me? To his own son?" She ducked her head, and in the darkness her hair rustled against the pillow. "I don't understand it. I never saw it coming..."

"You couldn't have." He stroked her hair, trying to soothe her.

"I _should _have," she sighed. "I should have seen the signs for what they were. If I hadn't gone on that mission with you, or if we'd gotten back sooner I could have stopped-"

"Enough," he admonished her sadly. "Sakumo didn't want to be stopped. You can't beat yourself up for not seeing things he probably hid from you and everyone else. If he wanted to kill himself... he was going to succeed one way or another. You're not to blame."

Kushina was silent in contemplation for a long moment. Just when he thought she had finally gone to sleep, she said, "Don't you ever do this, Minato. If it ever gets so bad you think you have to take your life, you have to come and tell me."

"I tell you everything anyway."

"That's why I love you," she responded, hugging him tightly with her head beneath his chin. "I know I can trust you."

In the end they barely snatched two hours of sleep before dawn, and they moved about their morning the same way they had the previous evening; sapped of life and energy, still trying to figure out how they went from on from there.

At least despite their previous insistence, Kushina and Kakashi put on their mourning clothes and accompanied him to the village square where regiments of other mourners and well-wishers were gathered. There were more than he'd expected, but of course not everyone was there for Sakumo. The pictures of fifteen others hung on the Remembrance Wall behind the Hokage... more than Minato had counted when he'd arrived back yesterday. Other casualties must have come in since then.

And more would follow too. It was only a matter of time.

They stood at the front of the crowd along with the other families and friends of the first war victims as the Hokage began the service. Minato could see Kushina checking the faces around them... perhaps she thought the man who had confronted Sakumo before his death was among these grieving relatives – the man who could have been responsible for pushing Sakumo over the edge. Minato held her hand tightly. She had already lost so many people in her life that she didn't deserve this. She should have been spared this grief.

Yet she seemed to be the only one who felt it, he thought, glancing down at Kakashi who stood impassively beside him. The boy had always been like his father, with dark unreadable eyes and a limited number of facial expressions that made it difficult to tell the difference between his teasing and his serious remarks. The Hatake family played things close to their chest and avoided strong public displays of emotion, but Minato wondered if with Kakashi it was a little more than that.

There were other young children here among the families of the war victims. Looking around, Minato could see the different ways they were grieving for their parents. Some of the younger ones just looked confused. The older ones around Kakashi's age understood clearly... and while some were crying, some were trying not to, and others looked like Kushina – as if they'd been crying so hard for so long that they had nothing left.

Anyone who looked at Kakashi would be forgiven for thinking he was an incidental observer. If he was a little quiet, that wasn't so different from his usual demeanour. He watched the service with a stiff kind of awareness far from the dumb shock Minato had found him in yesterday. But grief?

If Kakashi was grieving, it was impossible to tell.

The Hokage read out the names of the lost shinobi and spoke a little about each of them. Minato detected a faint hesitation in the old man's voice before he said the last name. "Hatake Sakumo."

A subtle shift came over the gathered crowd. Heads that were lowered came up, shoulders and feet readjusted, and if possible it grew even quieter in that busy square.

"A greatly trusted friend and exceptional shinobi left us yesterday," the Hokage intoned, his voice carrying easily over the heads of the grievers, filled with those who had sympathised with him, and those who had come to resent him, and those who simply did not know him at all. "It's at times like this, when Konoha is facing one of its most grave threats, that we are tested. And there was never a man more tested than Hatake Sakumo. He has stood with Konoha in its darkest moments and faced insurmountable odds that he not only conquered, but rose above, and never once allowed fear or darkness to change him. To Sakumo, this village was the people, and the people were his comrades. He fought for them always... and it is to them that he gave his life."

The fact that Sakumo had given his life by taking it was going to be glossed over. This was the kind of discourse that Minato would come to expect. Suicide was too much of a taboo to be spoken of in anything but vague euphemisms and anyone not aware of what had happened would remain ignorant.

That might have been for the best. While some still considered seppuku a dignified answer to a shamed life, plenty more thought it cowardly. Minato himself didn't know what to think, except that he had seen nothing more or less dignified about Sakumo's death than in any others he had caused or witnessed.

"If there is one thing that we can learn from his example," concluded the Hokage, "it is that we must always stand together, even in the most bitterly divisive of times. If not united, we are nothing."

What if that had been Sakumo's intention? His was a sacrifice that had the power to turn the anger directed at himself back towards the real enemy and mend the rift his mission had caused. Minato could see it in the faces of the ones he'd heard the strongest condemnations from, how their own remorse and guilt troubled them. Kushina called it crocodile tears, but even if these people had gone as far as demand Sakumo lose his rank, none of them could have wished he lose his life.

Perhaps Sakumo's decision hadn't been totally without meaning or sense. But still... a sane man wouldn't have left the people who loved him like this.

Perhaps he would never understand it.

Soon the service was over, though it wouldn't be long until the next one, and then the one after that. The body-count would rise as the war went on, until the Hokage no longer had the time to preside personally over all the memorial services. Even now he looked tired and harried, and no sooner had he left the podium than masked ANBU agents were coming forward to whisper in his ear.

"Something's going on," Kushina muttered, watching.

"Who knows," Minato murmured back. With Iwa and Kumo on the move, something was always going on these days. He was more interested in watching the crowd, for while the Hokage was allowed to speed away to more urgent matters, he knew they themselves were going to have a much harder time leaving, especially when it seemed like everyone they knew had decided to converge on them.

Mikoto reached them first, giving Kushina a consoling hug before bending to speak to Kakashi. She was good with children, he thought, but Kakashi was remarkably resistant to even the most charming of people and his responses remained short and terse. If his father were there, Sakumo would have reprimanded him on his lack of manners.

After her came the trio of Ino-Shika-Cho. Inoichi, usually nothing but a thorn in Kushina's side, was unusually subdued as he approached with his team and gave his condolences. Kushina accepted his sincerity politely, if a little suspiciously, and as Chouza launched into a fond anecdote of the time Hatake Sakumo had once saved their team from swamp pythons, Minato felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

He turned and looked up to see Jiraiya's sad smile. "Funny old world, isn't it? Only spoke to him yesterday, and now he's a picture on the Wall of Remembrance."

"It's happening so fast," Minato agreed.

"Oh, sure. A lot of people are feeling mighty guilty right now... they'll want to bury him fast so they can forget about him sooner." Jiraiya gave a faint snort of derision. "It's a lesson to us all, isn't it? The bigger you are, the harder you fall."

Minato craned his neck to look up at him. "I can see how that would concern someone like you, Sensei."

Jiraiya looked down at him, and neither smiled. "Listen," he began. "The Hokage's ordered a big push for tomorrow to regain some ground against Iwa. We'll be leaving tonight in force. I'll be leading one division... the Hokage wants you to lead another."

"Tonight?" Minato glanced across at Kushina, who was managing to smile weakly as Shikaku poked holes in Chouza's grand anecdotes, and then to Kakashi. The boy was standing off to the side, looking out at pictures on the wall and pretending not to eavesdrop. "I suppose it can't be helped."

"You should go report to the administration offices," Jiraiya said. "You'll need the day to prepare. Don't worry; I'll keep an eye on Kakashi and Kushina for you."

Minato sighed. "Thank you, Sensei."

With a hefty clap on his shoulder, Jiraiya smiled and wandered over to Kakashi. Before Minato turned away, he heard their exchange:

"So, what do you like to do for fun, Kakashi-kun?"

"What?"

"Any hobbies?"

"... I like reading."

"Really? I happen to be an author myself, you know..."

"What?"

Oblivious to the impending corruption of a poor eight-year old boy, Minato sought out Kushina, touching her arm to draw her attention from the antics the Triad. "I have to go," he told her discreetly.

At once she stiffened and reached out to grasp him. "No-" she whispered, dread rising in her voice.

"I have to report to administration. They're sending me out tonight."

"Now?" She pressed a hand to her forehead. "But _why?_"

"You know why." She had seen how far Iwa's incursion into the Fire country had gotten. Not even Sakumo's death could cause her to forget the threat the village was facing.

Kushina shook her head. "I told you this war was going to separate us again," she said fretfully. "And _now_ of all times...!"

"I know, I'm sorry." He chucked her cheek and tried on what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll see you later, Kushina."

She did not look comforted in the slightest.

* * *

The military grade equipment was new. Konoha was sparing no expense with the next wave, especially against a force as advanced as Iwa was said to be. The green flak vests were out, and in came the steel manica-style armguards and grey carbon-fibre tunics that could deflect most sharp projectiles. The small precision teams couldn't hold against Iwa's superior numbers, so now they were forming teams of twenty, led by jonin, supplemented by medics, communication operators, and saboteur experts.

Minato would be taking his division back to the Heiou valley for the sole purpose of reclaiming it. When they told him the odds of survival, he raised an eyebrow, but was otherwise not too concerned. He'd beaten worse odds before and sent out on suicide missions by people who preferred him not to come back. What bothered him more was the way his set of heavy armour itched against the back of his neck.

It was very irritating.

At least Kushina approved. He met her on his way back from the administration offices, and she took one look at his new fatigues before she declared, "You're breaking the heart of every girl you walk past wearing that, Minato."

Now his neck felt hot with a blush besides being itchy. "Where are you going?" he asked her. "I thought you'd be with Kakashi."

"Jiraiya's with him," she explained. "I was just going to the hospital to check on that girl we brought in."

Minato had completely forgotten about Anko. "Of course," he said quickly. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Since it might have been the last few hours they had together for quite some time, she nodded shyly. "I'd like that."

They set off for the hospital, the mood muted between them. Although Kushina was doing a magnificent job of keeping up appearances, she was in many ways still reeling. Talking to her was like communicating over a long distance radio with a time lag. If he asked her a question, it could be a delay of several seconds before she reacted and responded.

"So you think your seal really worked?" he asked her.

_A long pause. _"The medic seemed to think so," she said. "I'm not sure about its long-term effectiveness. It's a kind of seal that's dependant on the will of the carrier, so how long it lasts is up to her, I guess."

That was interesting. "Where did you learn this?"

_An even longer pause. _"Self-taught."

"It's one of your father's techniques, right?" he asked. "I thought you said they were sealed inside you?"

"When we were in Whirlpool, I found one of my father's stores under the floorboards. Do you remember the green marble?"

"Vaguely."

"Some of my father's techniques were sealed inside it," she said. "I've been learning bits and pieces ever since... mostly while you were at the border outpost."

"You never said."

Her pause may have been for a different reason this time. "I didn't want you to laugh at me."

"Why would I laugh?"

"I know I'm not very good with... studying and stuff. I wanted to be sure I could do it before I told you. You're just so good at everything you do, it's unfair. I wanted this one thing for myself."

He understood. She probably wouldn't believe it, but he knew what it felt like to battle with feelings of inferiority. "Maybe when I get back you can teach me some of the things you learned?" he asked hopefully.

"And watch you show me up?" She shrugged unenthusiastically. "Just call me Sensei."

Then she fell silent, perhaps unwittingly reminding herself of her own sensei.

Visiting hours at the hospital were almost over when they arrived, but the nurse on Anko's ward was pleased to see Kushina. "I'm so glad you're here," she said. "Anko regained consciousness not long after you left yesterday although she hasn't talked much. Those dreadful police couldn't get a word out of her... maybe you could try?"

"She won't say what happened to her?" Minato asked, following the nurse with Kushina to a private room at the end of the ward.

"She wouldn't even tell her teacher," the nurse claimed. "He came by with the other sannin, but she clammed up. Remembers you, though. For a while she kept asking where the nice lady with red hair had gone."

Kushina tugged Minato's sleeve. "Did you hear that? I'm a 'nice lady'."

"The kid was _very_ sick," he pointed out.

She thumped his arm for that, which did nothing but prove his steel-plated sleeve was up to the task. She was still rubbing her knuckles ruefully when they entered Anko's room and found the girl sitting up in her bed.

"Hello there," Kushina called, sounding about as surprised as Minato felt at the sight of the girl. Yesterday she had looked as if she was near death, and though today she was far from looking like a picture of health, her large black eyes were bright and alert and the blood transfusion plugged into her arm had brought some colour back to her cheeks.

After what had happened with Sakumo, this girl was a painfully welcome sight.

"Do you remember me?" Kushina asked uncertainly, approaching the bed. "I'm Kushina. I found you yesterday."

Anko nodded, her stringy black hair falling in her eyes. "Yah," she said, looking at Kushina curiously. "I remember."

"You were in a bit of state, huh?"

Dark eyes shifted away uncomfortably and landed on Minato. "You're the Yellow Flash."

"Minato," said Minato.

"How are you feeling today, Anko-chan?" Kushina asked her.

"Better... my shoulder hurts though."

The nurse moved around the bed. "Let me take a look," she said, taking the girl's arm gently and pulling the neck of her hospital gown aside to reveal a square of gauze strapped over her injury. Once it was carefully peeled back, neither Kushina and Minato could resist leaning forward to take a look.

The blood was gone and all that remained were two puncture marks that were already beginning to scab. However, the three tomoe marks were stronger than ever, standing out starkly on the girl's white skin and now encircled by a faint ring of intricate script that looked like tiny characters too small to read.

"Your seal?" Minato asked her.

"It's designed especially for suppressing other curse seals," she said. "It looks like it's holding too."

"I can still feel it," Anko said unhappily, "the weird chakra's coming through."

Kushina frowned. "My sealing method should completely neutralise marks like that... it must be very strong if you can still feel it." As the nurse applied fresh salve and recovered the mark, Kushina moved to sit on the bed and pulled her feet up. "You'll be ok, Anko-chan. As long as you want my seal to work, it'll keep working. It'll definitely hold until we find the person who did this to you and make them reverse it."

Anko looked away again, looking at the patterns in her cotton blanket. She didn't look as if she had much hope left.

"Do you remember what happened to you, Anko?" Minato asked her.

For a brief second her eyes jumped up to him and then quickly down again. "No."

Kushina looked at Minato the same time he looked at her, and the same thought crossed both of their minds. Anko knew _exactly_ what had happened.

"Someone hurt you, didn't they?" Kushina guessed. "It's alright, you can tell us."

Minato was beginning to doubt this had anything to do with a foreign enemy like Iwa. As young as she was, Anko knew her duty as a shinobi was to report enemy activity if she came across it, and there was no shame in being attacked... unless the one responsible was a little closer to home.

"It's very important you tell the nice lady, Anko," chided the nurse.

"I can't," snapped the contrary little girl, "or he'll come back and do for me what he did the others."

"Who will?" Kushina demanded, almost angry in her indignation on Anko's behalf. "If you tell us we can stop him from hurting you or anyone else."

Anko shook her head and drew her legs tight up against her chest. "He's too strong," she mumbled in her knees.

"There's no such thing," Kushina told her. "You know who the strongest person in the village is, don't you? He's standing right behind me. There's no one he can't defeat with one arm tied behind his back, and he can protect you against whole armies. He can definitely protect you against one man."

Minato shifted his weight uncomfortably and folded his arms. Kushina was overstating his abilities just a touch, and when Anko switched her gaze back to him, she looked equally dubious. "Kakashi-kun says the Yellow Flash can beat anyone," she said slowly. "Can you beat Orochimaru-sensei?"

His stomach dropped. The arms he'd folded over his chest fell limply back to his sides. "Orochimaru... but why would...?"

Kushina's eyes widened, their naturally emotive blue muted to glassy green under the harsh hospital lights. "Anko, are you saying Orochimaru did this to you?" she asked with strained calm.

Anko looked around at them furtively. After a moment, she nodded.

"But he was here!" burst out the nurse. "Anko, you mustn't tell such tales about people! Orochimaru was very worried about you, and he's the Hokage's own student. He wouldn't do this-"

"I'm not a liar!" screeched Anko. "He said it would make us stronger, but it hurt so much! The others were making weird noises, so I ran! I woke up here and he was here and he was smiling and he said he wasn't going to teach me anymore and if I told anyone he would kill me!"

By the time she'd finished she could barely breathe as huge, gasping sobs shook her little frame. Kushina was the first to recover from her shock, and quickly pulled the girl into her arms. She was speechless. Minato could see tears of sympathy already welling in her eyes.

"She said there were others..." Minato said, feeling a disconnect between the racing of his heart and his crawlingly slow brain.

Kushina whispered something to Anko who returned a gargled, halting response into her chest. "Other children," Kushina gave her stricken translation. "Minato, she says he _took them from other villages_."

But there had been no other reports of children being found in a similar condition to Anko. "She was the only one who escaped," he said numbly, realising it as he said it.

Unable to stop himself, he turned at once and headed for the door.

"What are you going to do?" Kushina demanded.

"You should go to the Hokage – tell him everything!" Minato ordered. "And tell him to send back-up to Orochimaru's lab!"

"You're _not _going to face Orochimaru!" she said fiercely, covering Anko's ears. "I know what I said, but you I don't like your chances against someone like him! Not on your own!"

He paused in the doorway. "He's the one we were looking for all along, Kushina!" he said shortly. "Taking people – children – from other villages to experiment on them; it's _him_. He was right under our noses this whole time and if his victims are still alive I'm not going to waste another second! I won't face him if I don't have to, but I have to find the others. So please just do as I say."

Minato didn't give her time to respond. He was already out the door and running down the corridor, jostling anyone aside who happened to get in his way. The sun was beginning to set as he burst out onto the street. Blissfully ignorant pedestrians on their way home glanced after him curiously as he streaked by, and when he turned down an alley only to find his way blocked by a shopkeeper unloading his crates of goods, he heard the man's exclamation of shock as Minato bolted up the wall and onto the roof.

Orochimaru's lab wasn't far from the hospital, but his speed surprised even Minato himself. Nervous onlookers watched as the young man careened to a halt outside the lab's door, tested the handle once, and then proceeded to throw his weight against the door with violent thuds. Minato didn't care who saw, or if Orochimaru was inside, or if every alarm in Konoha went off for such blatant vandalism. One precise kick with his foot and the lock smashed open, spraying the floor inside with splinters of wood. Minato forced his way inside.

The lab had always struck his are creepy and _dangerous_ in the sense that anything he touched might be a flesh-eating virus or otherwise booby-trapped to hell. Now Minato was beginning to appreciate just how sick this place was. He strode through the main lab without hesitation now, no longer troubled by the sight of partially dissected animals or another other foul experiments. If Anko was right, these experiments paled in comparison to the others Orochimaru was hiding.

As he passed the workbench where all of Orochimaru's paperwork lay in cluttered piles, he was brought to a halt by a twinge of a memory. It forced him to reach out and grab one of Orochimaru's journals, regardless of how many protections and tricks the sannin had set up to detect disturbances. He flipped the book open to a page, any page, and fixed upon the first sentence that leapt out at him.

_...cuttings from specimens five through eight withering. Nitrogen content of soil depleted..._

Written by hand with a simple ballpoint pen. Slanted characters, but neat. Feminine, as Kushina had described it, whereas Minato had called it psychopathic.

It was exactly the same handwriting as the message he had found in Senju Han's vault.

The book dropped from Minato's hands and clattered on the floor, forgotten. He was already turning, hurrying for the room where all Orochimaru's regimented little samples of blood were kept. He did not spare even a moment to check for his mother's vial. If he had, he might have noticed right then that _his_ vial was missing.

Minato's attention was only for the heavy iron door at the end of the room. The last time he'd been here the sounds coming from behind it had raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He'd been so close to opening it... but Orochimaru had brushed him off with an explanation that they were merely animals. Maybe that was the truth, or at least how Orochimaru saw them. A man who experimented on people as casually as he did other creatures couldn't possibly see them as anything more than a lower order of life.

There were no noises now. The lab was utterly still. If there were people behind this door... children even... were they still alive?

He would be in plenty of trouble if he burst through this door and found Orochimaru presiding over some innocuous tests with rats and mice. He'd be in even _more_ trouble if he burst through and found exactly what he feared he would find... _especially_ if Orochimaru was indeed on the other side. Kushina wasn't being overly concerned when she had warned him against facing the sannin. Minato didn't know much of his abilities, but he was widely regarded as being the strongest of the sannin and could rival the Hokage himself.

But Minato could hesitate no longer. If he was wrong he would deal with the consequences later... for now he couldn't risk any more delays if there really were children being held inside.

Resolved, he seized the door's stiff lever and pulled. It was no surprise to him that it didn't budge, but then he had ways around it, and unlike with Han's vault, he was in no mood for the discreet approach. Pulling back his hand, he summoned his chakra in a tight vortex in the centre of his palm. He waited for it to grow and gain momentum, until its blue glow illuminated the pristine white walls of the blood room.

With an charged shout he smashed his hand into the door, rasengan and all, and felt the metal twist and cave beneath its force like old rice paper. His arm plunged through the hole, and cool air washed over his hand. He was through. Even if this was the limit of how much he could forcefully penetrate, it was enough. Sliding his elbow around, he had leverage to touch his fingers to the other side of the thick metal door. That was where he planted the chakra tag. He only had to activate Hiraishin to find himself standing at once on the other side upon a stone staircase. Poorly lit strings of ancient electric lights spanned the low ceiling, all the way to the bottom of its steep descent where he saw a trembling black reflection. Water.

Was this a direct access to the sewer system?

Minato kept his hand to the wall as he followed the stairs down and stepped out onto the shallow channel of water with his chakra charged sandals. Probing the stone told him nothing. It seemed that like the vault at the Fire Temple, there was a whole complex down here that was hidden from such detection methods. He doubted even the intelligence division, who could monitor every inch of Konoha with their meticulous detection and barrier methods, could see this place. It was off the grid entirely, and Minato felt half blind as he followed the narrow tunnel's only course until the stairwell was lost behind him around dozens of corners and curves.

This place was not without its traps either. When Minato triggered the first he was glad for his new armour. The storm of kunai flew at him as if from nowhere, and though he was fast enough to avoid most, a few still glanced off his steel-plated sleeves, too close for Minato's comfort. He watched his step more carefully after that. Orochimaru clearly had something to hide down here to employ such antisocial tactics.

When a door appeared before him, Minato paused. He wondered if this was another trap of some kind, for though he had to be nearing his goal, it all seemed a little too easy. Orochimaru was a sannin. Surely he had tougher methods of keeping people away from his insidious activities than a few spring loaded kunai? This man was a master of ninjutsu, and genjutsu particularly, if he wanted to keep people away he must have had a plethora of stronger methods than that?

Unless the traps were disarmed... because Orochimaru was here?

There was only one way to find out. Minato advanced on the door, tension vibrating through every tendon and muscle. _It has to be a trap_, he told himself as he touched the handle and felt it turn obediently for him. _It has to be._

He wished it was.

The first thing that assaulted him was the stink. It caught him off guard and made his breath catch in his throat. He knew the rancid stench of death and decaying human flesh far too well. During the last war he'd found himself downwind of plenty of corpses on the battlefield, and nothing could ever make him forget the day he had infiltrated a certain mist outpost and walked into a hut where the enemy nin stored their slaughtered enemies for dissection and desecration. A human abattoir. Minato had never wanted to see or _smell_ anything like that for the rest of his life...

And yet here he was. It was happening all over again in his own beloved Konoha.

Minato froze in the doorway, staring inside at the bodies hanging from the walls; at the men and women strung up like the carcasses of pigs in a butcher shop. Their blood, old and black, stained the walls and the floor, tracing the path where it had once flowed fresh into the grates on the floor. More bodies lay on tables, some whole, some in pieces, while cages cluttered one end of the room, large enough to hold dogs... or children. Now they were empty.

Unconsciously, he had entered the room. He didn't realise it until his foot knocked against a plastic box and he looked down sharply. A collection of severed legs protruded from it absurdly, waste discarded as casually as Minato discarded junk mail. Another bin further away held arms. Minato caught sight of a slim hand with manicured nails... a woman's.

A movement in the middle of the room made him flinch. He had never been a jumpy individual, but when the man on the table nearest to him twitched, his own heart nearly stopped. He had to rally his nerves with effort and calm his racing pulse. Here at least was one survivor. As wretched and terrifying as this place was – and Minato didn't think this was even the _only_ room down here – he had to keep his calm if he was going to help.

Reaching the table, Minato clasped the man's shoulder to shake it. He was naked and deeply discoloured, especially around the fresh stitches running the length of his chest. Bolted restraints pinned his ankles and wrists to the metal table, and another held him by the neck. "Wake up," Minato said, his voice barely breaking above a whisper. "Wake up, we need to get out of here."

The man's eyes slid open, but there was no sense in them.

"You're going to be alright," Minato promised, tearing at the restraints holding him down. "I'm going to get you out of here."

The man's cracked lips parted. "Help... me..." he croaked. Minato recognised the accent; this was a Suna nin.

"I can help you," he said. "Can you stand?"

"No..." The man's head rolled in a faint shake. "No... help me... die..."

Those rasped words made Minato's hands pause in their task of freeing the restraints. He stared at the man, into bleak, empty eyes that reminded him far too much of Sakumo's. "Don't give up," he pleaded.

"Kill me... I... beg you..."

A strange feeling flooded Minato's veins then. It washed through him, cold and prickling and leaving behind an unpleasantly numb sensation throughout his body. This place was making him sick, he thought. Whatever the man said, Minato had to free him and get him out of there. The restraints had to be undone...

But Minato couldn't seem to make his hands obey.

He wanted to look down at them, to figure out why he could hardly feel them and why they wouldn't respond to his desire to move...

Not even his eyes would respond.

"I was beginning to think you would never come."

The sound of Orochimaru's voice cut through him like glass, but however much his mind screamed at him to turn and fight, or just to _run,_ he remained immobile. Even his heart that had been galloping in his chest only moments ago had now begun to slow, as if it could not perceive the danger he was in. The connection between mind and body had been cut.

Silently, the sannin slid into his view. His almost ghostly form circled the table to stand opposite him, where he lowered his head until they were eye to eye. "Perfect," Orochimaru said with his silkiest smile, observing the passive state of his new victim. "I've been waiting for you, Minato-kun."

* * *

TBC


	26. Awakening

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twenty-Six: Awakening

* * *

"Minato-kun, I have to say this is an improvement. A vast improvement indeed."

Orochimaru chuckled to himself as he waved long, white fingers before Minato's face to test his reaction – and gained none. For all appearances, the young jonin had frozen in place, unaware of Orochimaru and the room around him, as if time had stopped. The man he had been attempting to release was still barely conscious, though he shakily reached out with his freed arm to grope at Minato's unflinching one. "Help... me..."

A wide leer of amusement split Orochimaru's face as he peered down at his pathetic prisoner. "What are you asking him for? He can no more help you now than any one of these useless corpses," he said, spreading his arms wide to present the various bodies suspended against the walls. "But matters are now drawing to a close and I believe I have reached the limits of my research here. I will have to move, and you... you have served your purpose."

Blood spurted outwards in one swift downward stroke; the Suna nin gasped in a mixture of relief and suffering and rolled his head. Though his eyes never closed, the moment life fled them was unmistakable, like watching lights being extinguished in darkness... something Minato had grown used to seeing, but never quite like this. The blood spatter dripped down his face – he could feel its warmth and thickness but he couldn't wipe it away. He couldn't react.

His body was paralysed, severed from his control as brutally as the limbs had been severed from these cadavers. A claustrophobic feeling set in. He was trapped inside his own body, nothing but a pair of eyes helpless to watch Orochimaru sedately wiping his kunai clean on his sleeve.

Sliding his weapon back out of sight in his belt, Orochimaru gracefully tucked a sheet of inky black hair behind an ear. Never once did his smile slip throughout the brutal execution. "Now where were we? Oh, that's right. Since you're here... perhaps you can assist me? Follow me, Minato-kun."

_Like hell,_ thought Minato. But his body was already moving, pushing away from the table in a faintly lumbering fashion, and following Orochimaru's form through to another room. With the sannin's back turned, now would be a prime time to strike and kill – no one who saw this lair would blame him. Minato tried with all his might to draw his hand up, to reach for one of his weapons... but all he detected was a faint tremor in his fingers before his will subsided.

"Don't resist, Minato-kun," Orochimaru said softly without turning to him. Minato wouldn't put it past him to literally have eyes on the back of his head. "I control your very blood from your arteries to your capillaries... if you resist too strongly, you will snap your own blood vessels or tear your heart to pieces. Please be mindful."

What had this bastard done?

There was a furnace in the room he was brought to; it burned steadily in the corner, filling the air with a hot, acrid smell. Though Minato couldn't wilfully direct his gaze toward it, out of the corner of his eye he saw more buckets of limbs and lumpy body-bags too small to be adults.

Was this what happened the rest of the children?

"Sit." Orochimaru pointed at a solitary chair against the wall. Minato sat, inwardly raging at the unquestioning obedience he'd been forced into.

"You'll have noticed this is no ordinary paralysis," the sannin said, removing a scroll from his vest. "Believe me, I think this is some of my finest work, Minato-kun. I've had a lot of time to prepare this."

He unravelling the scroll with almost loving care, and turned it for Minato to see. A jutsu, clearly, and it almost looked like a summoning contract... except it was entirely written in blood.

"Yes, that's _your_ blood. It's been most useful to me," Orochimaru told him, almost like a friendly physician to a patient if this was not a slaughterhouse. He couldn't have been more at this man's mercy if he'd been the one naked and tied to that table. "Surely Minato-kun, you know the power of blood in our profession. You really should think twice before giving it so freely... even to such _trustworthy_ men such as myself. You have only yourself to blame. Did you _really_ believe I had any interest in your miserable ancestry?"

How had he ever believed _anything_ Orochimaru had ever told him? It had been so easy to dismiss him as an eccentric, or even just a little bit of a creep... impossible to think that his sensei's own teammate and a student of the Hokage himself could be capable of such depravity. Yet here, surrounded by the grizzly evidence, Orochimaru's eerie smile finally made sense. This insanity had a context.

"One-sided conversations are so dull, don't you think?" said the sannin, running his finger across the scroll's tapestry of blood scripts. "I think we can afford to loosen a few binds at least... genius must be acknowledged after all."

Minato's tongue was suddenly his own again. His eyes darted around the room, under his control again, as he took several greedy breaths like a man submerged for too long. Whatever relief he felt was tempered when the rest of him remained frustratingly numb to his commands. Snapping a furious glare on Orochimaru, he barked, "_What have you done to me?_"

"You were proving yourself to be too much of a wild card and I dislike opponents whose moves I cannot anticipate," shrugged Orochimaru, "much better to have you close at hand... more so to have you under my control."

"You'll pay for this!"

"If all you're going to do is shout tedious clichés at me, I'm afraid I'll have to return you to your previous state-"

"Where are the children?"

Orochimaru stared at him, blank with apparent annoyance. "Which children?"

"Like Anko! What did you do with them?"

"That particular batch?" The sannin tilted his head, gaze sliding towards the furnace.

The bottom of Minato's stomach dropped. He had prayed his suspicions were wrong, but now his blood was reaching far past boiling point. "You're sick!" Minato spat. "Once the Hokage finds out about this, you're-"

"Dead? Hardly. The Hokage may once have been a god of shinobi, but these days he's nothing more than an ineffective old man... clearly, since he decided _you_ should be his successor. His ineptitude is illustrated thus. He even knows what I am now, but he is still working up the courage to face me. Which is why we must move quickly, my dear Minato-kun. Time is short."

Even so, there was nothing hurried about the sannin's movement as he went about the room, gathering instruments and scrolls from shelves and cupboards. "You don't know how much it has pleased me that you arrived in time."

"I'm not interested in your schedule," Minato hissed.

"You should be. My plans involve you now, of course."

"For what?" he demanded sharply.

"'For what' he says." Orochimaru shook his head and chidingly clucked his tongue. "You've been a thorn in my side, but you're more use to me alive than dead. Look at yourself. To kill you would be a terrible waste. You've made quite the name for yourself for someone without a clan or a bloodline jutsu, and you've not yet reached your prime even. There was a time when I considered taking you and laying you out on one of my tables to cut through your perfect skin to learn your secrets... but it's your jutsu I want... and no amount of sifting through your blood and bone will tell me how it works."

"I'll tell you how it works," Minato said evenly.

Orochimaru cocked a thin eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Come closer, and I'll whisper it." Then he'd tear his bloody throat out with his teeth if he had to.

With a faint snort, the sannin turned away. "Your cooperation is unnecessary. With this jutsu, you're my puppet, I can control your whole body. I can make you do anything I like, regardless of your will. Would you like a demonstration?"

"Waste as much time as you like. The Hokage's probably on his way right now."

"Minato-kun. Break one of your fingers for me."

His arms were already moving before he had even comprehended the order, the fingers of his right hand wrapped around the ring finger of his left and began to bent it backward, inexorably. "Wait," Minato muttered, fighting for control. The queer feeling that he was watching someone else's limbs moving was shot through with the very real pain that accompanied it. Tendons and ligaments strained. The stretched skin on his palm turned white. He gritted his teeth and held his breath, aware that at any second the bone would snap.

Orochimaru devoured the tension etched in his face greedily, revelling in it. Until he suddenly held up his hand. "Stop."

Minato's hands dropped back onto his lap anticlimactically. His finger throbbed angrily, but at least it wasn't broken.

"I think I've proved my point," said Orochimaru. "No need to go overboard. Who acquires a perfect weapon and then blunts it before they can use it?"

"And what would you use me for?" Minato asked him quietly, dreading the answer.

A further thrill of revulsion rattled his spine as the older man stepped forward and slid a cold fingertip down Minato's cheek. "The possibilities are endless," he said in his silkiest murmur. "You really would make the perfect weapon, but I'm afraid this jutsu can't be sustained indefinitely, and to use you as a weapon would imply I want to wield you. Rather, I would possess you, mind and body."

"I'd rather you kill me now," Minato responded tightly.

Orochimaru sneered at the disgust Minato was unable to hide. "It's a natural progression, you understand. I possess your body right now, but to truly learn your secrets and acquire them for myself, I must possess your mind. I must _become_ you."

"What?" The man had to be insane. This sounded more like rambling nonsense to Minato than genius.

"This body of mine has peaked and will weaken eventually – it's decline has already begun. It has reached its limits and my mind deserves a better host. It deserves youth and vitality and a body that can realise my potential. And you... your body is wasted on such a dull, uncomprehending mind. Why not donate it to a greater cause? For science."

"Science _fiction,"_ Minato spluttered. "You're talking about switching bodies? That's not possible."

"Was it not also impossible to bring the dead back to life? Yet the Nidaime Hokage proved the world wrong. Dear Minato-kun, _everything _was once impossible before some great _pioneer_ made it possible!"

"You think you're a pioneer?" Minato jerked his chin around the room, inviting the sannin to look around. "You've engineered nothing but meaningless slaughter and invited international war! You think people are going to remember you as a pioneering genius? No one's going to remember you as anything but a pasty, mass murdering psychopath who had to be put down – and good riddance!"

Orochimaru was unperturbed. He flicked his hair over his shoulder again and slid a finger over his lips thoughtfully. "I don't care about leaving a legacy since I don't plan on leaving. With this technique I am creating, I will always be here. Immortality is finally within my grasp, Minato-kun. You should be honoured that I have chosen you to be my... _first."_

Minato felt he did a good job preventing himself from screaming enough vile expletives to make even Kushina blush. Swallowing hard to temper himself, he responded with a cool, "I disagree."

"And I have no further desire to humour you. While I hold your blood, you don't have the luxury of choice." Orochimaru said, and the moment he touched the contract scroll, Minato's miniscule freedom of movement fled. His face went lax and his gaze locked in its previous dead stare. He could have screamed for the frustration that built inside him with no possible outlet.

He _would_ break free of this, he told himself. Once he figured out a way, Orochimaru wouldn't know what had hit him. Minato had to take him down, not just for the safety of others, but because this man _deserved _it. He'd never felt that way towards anyone before. Minato may have killed more people than he cared to count, but he had never contemplated _murder_ before, pre-meditated and with extreme prejudice.

The sannin wound the scroll shut again with sharp, elegant movements of his hands before tucking it into the pouch on his hip. "There," he said, looking back at Minato. "You really are a much more pleasant sight when your face isn't twisted with such hideous emotions. Quite beautiful, in fact. I certainly won't mind having that face as my own." He leaned in close. "Oh... that's if you survive the curse seal, of course."

Orochimaru was so close, Minato could have said he felt his body heat. But Orochimaru wasn't that different than the corpses he surrounded himself with, and when the sannin laid his hands on Minato's skin, they were so cold they felt like they sapped not only his heat but his life. "To realise your full potential," Orochimaru said, tilting Minato's head back to expose his throat, "is a great gift. The seal will help you do that. There's a nine in ten chance that you'll die, but if that's the case, you would be useless to me anyway. And maybe your odds will be a little better? Like dear Anko-chan, there's a petulant fire in you that demands survival."

As the sannin smiled, Minato could have sworn two of his teeth were elongating. But it wasn't a vampire that he was reminded of... it was a snake. A venomous snake closing in on its paralysed victim to deliver the final bite.

"After you receive this venom, you will sleep deeply," Orochimaru went on softly, almost reassuringly if not for the fact that he was bent over Minato with his lips close enough to brush his throat. "_If_ you wake up... you will be mine."

A ninety percent chance of death? Minato wasn't sure he disliked those odds... not when survival meant more of this. He would rather die than become a tool for Orochimaru to further his barbaric experiments. He was more infuriated that he would be denied a last opportunity to spit in this monster's eyes before those fangs sunk into his throat and did to him what he had done to Anko and the other children he'd used as disposable test subjects.

No... Minato wouldn't die. He refused to. Not until he got his chance at ending this demon.

Orochimaru's breath rolled across his skin. Minato may not have been to move, but every hair on his body rose and tingled in anticipation of the first prick of those teeth. His heart may have been slow, but its beat rang loud in his ears, almost as if the dull thumping noise filled the whole room.

It took him a moment to realise it wasn't his heart.

With a faint hiss of impatience, Orochimaru swung away from him and stood still as the noise faded to silence once more. "It appears someone has broken through my first defence. What uninvited guest is this?" He looked at Minato, considering him. "Did you call for back-up after all? Perhaps you're not as stupid as you seem?"

He whirled back to the equipment he'd gathered, and fetched down another scroll from his collection. This one was less like a document and more like a log. When Orochimaru unravelled it, it took up most of the floor.

"I can't allow the cretins of this village to get their hands on my experiments and data," he said, arranging his provisions over the scroll. "Most of my necessary supplies are already sealed in this scroll... sadly I won't have time to transport the rest. And the subjects...? Well, the ones still alive won't last much longer anyway. I don't suppose it matters now."

Forming his hands into seals, a flash filled the room. Unable to blink voluntarily or shield his eyes, the light made strange bright spots dance on Minato's retina, though when they cleared he could see Orochimaru sealing the scroll tightly with a red rope. All his provisions were now locked inside it.

"You will take this," he said to Minato. "Stand."

With the rest of the rope, he tied the scroll onto Minato's back.

He was being turned into a mule, he thought indignantly. And Orochimaru didn't pack light. There might have been a whole laboratory sealed inside this scroll for how much it weighed. Minato's body didn't complain. It adjusted its posture to take the extra weight like he was nothing more than a beast of burden.

"Take this scroll and meet me by the Valley of the End. Konoha trusts you so no one will stop you... although if they try, you are to dispose of them by any means necessary. And do be careful. That scroll is worth more than your life, and if you at any point attempt to break free of my control, remember my warning and imagine what it must feel like for every blood vessel in your body to burst at once."

Chuckling darkly, Orochimaru approached a naked section of wall and stroked his fingers across it like a lover. Cracks appeared in the solid concrete, revealing a stone door. The sannin pushed it back, exposing the pitch black passage behind it. "You will take this path. Now go!"

Minato's curses were silent, but no less heartfelt as he dashed into the hidden tunnel. Orochimaru sealed the entrance shut behind him, throwing him into darkness. Though he couldn't see, he could hear his feet slapping rapidly against the puddles of condensation as he sped through the narrow passage, wondering where it was leading him and if he was going to crash into a wall.

He had to stop himself somehow. He couldn't remain a mute passenger while he was forced to assist such a heinous lunatic – he _had _to get his body back under control. If he remained calm and didn't panic, and ignored how disorientating it was to run and not even be in control... he could concentrate on the problem. Rather than try and bring himself to a standing stop, he had to win back his body in more subtle ways.

The tunnel began to slope upwards and with it an ambient haze of light removed the shadows obscuring his path. Beneath his feet, the texture of the ground grew rougher as the walls lost their regular shape and began to slope. This was less of a man made structure and becoming something more natural.

His body slowed as the tunnel grew tighter. His flight was coming to a stop at the end of the path, though it was not another door he found, but a smoother gap between solid rocks. Moonlight poured through it like silver water. Without hesitation, Minato's body forced himself and the scroll through the tight squeeze and stepped out into a dark forest.

Where was he?

His treacherous body paused, as if pondering the same question, looking around to take stock of his surroundings before turning his eyes to look up at the night's sky through the tops of the trees. The faint, orange glow behind him indicated Konoha lay in that direction; its light pollution always a giveaway at such close range. Then his gaze traced the stars, locating the constellations, and following the line of the dipper to the north star that shone like a bright beacon directly ahead. That way would lie the Valley of the End, he realised, for though he'd never been there he knew the gorge was around a hundred miles directly north of Konoha.

As if his body had been listening in on his thoughts, it suddenly began to move again, setting off at a run through the trees in a direct line for the northern star. It must have been taking cues from his subconscious. A body could operate on its own to some degree – it could walk and breath take simple commands – all learned behaviours that were embedded deeper than the conscious mind. But navigating the stars? He could only have unwittingly told himself where to go.

Was it possible to turn off his own mind in this situation? Would that even help or make things worse?

It was when he was vaulting over a fallen tree that something flashed in the corner of his eye. The moonlight reflecting off a leaf? Or a blade? His head turned to catch a whisper of movement through the trees beside him, before two kunai split the air inches from his nose. Warning shots.

_Oh hell..._ he thought, as his body slowed to a stop of its own accord.

"Identify yourself!"

He was already surrounded. Shadows with White masks descended from the trees; faceless ANBU charged with protecting Konoha while so many ninja were being deployed to the border. There was at least one jonin here. Unfortunately, he was also the only other person beside Orochimaru that Minato, in his darkest hours, might have considered giving a deserved kick to the face.

"Minato?" Ren called to him. "What are you doing here?"

Orochimaru's jutsu was not so complicated that it could force him to speak or lie. In response to Ren's question, Minato simply stared. _Just walk away_, he begged silently. His own body had become a strange, unpredictable thing he couldn't trust. It had only one charge: to get to the Valley and make sure no one got in his way. And here was Ren... proving once again that he existed purely to get in Minato's way. Except this time there was a little more at stake than just Kushina's heart.

Faced with such steadfast vacancy, Ren began to frown. "Last I checked your division was waiting for you at the gates. What are you doing out here alone, Minato?"

There was no way to warn him that he was not looking at Minato, but something far more like a wild animal.

"Why isn't he answering?" asked one of the ANBU outside his line of sight. "What's wrong with his eyes?"

Something was wrong with his _eyes?_

Ren looked troubled. "They're red, aren't they? I'm not imagining that?"

They were _red?_

A beat passed before one ANBU began to heft the pole he carried into an offensive stance. "It's not the Yellow Flash. It's a trick."

"It's definitely Namikaze Minato," said an elder Hyuuga.

Ren's hands hovered close to the kunai lining his belt. "He must be under a genjutsu."

"No genjutsu," confirmed the Hyuuga. "His chakra is not in flux."

"Then what the hell is his problem?"

And just as Minato had dreaded, his body shot forward like a coiled spring, so fast the rest of them may have been moving in slow motion. He saw the surprise register on Ren's face as he reached out to seize the other jonin by the vest, about to pull him forward and down onto the kunai Minato was thrusting up.

Kushina was never going to forgive him for this...

But his kunai never found its mark. Inches before it could sink into Ren's belly, Minato pulled back sharply to avoid the metal-tipped pole that plunged between them. The ANBU had interfered.

Ren surged back to a safe distance and Minato's gaze locked onto his new opponent, unable to stop himself automatically judging the range of his long weapon and the strength of its wielder as his body shifted tactics accordingly. The ANBU spun the staff masterfully, advancing on Minato and forcing him backwards, always just one step outside the striking distance. Emboldened by his retreat, the ANBU lurched forward with a violent shout, aiming fast for his chest... but Minato's deft half-step and pivot caused the sharpened staff to slide harmlessly through the air past his ribs. He slammed his arm down, effectively trapping it to his side and tearing it from his opponent's hands.

The staff flashed in a hard circle, cracking the ANBU around the face and knocking the mask clean off his face. Minato didn't get to see how badly the man fell – he had already turned and swept the feet out from beneath the ninja trying to sneak up behind him.

A gap had presented itself in the circle around him; a chance to escape.

_So go!_ he screamed at himself. If this confrontation went on, someone would be killed, and once that happened there would be no going back.

His own comrades and colleagues held back, uncertain what to do with him while they waited for his next move. Minato could have cheered with relief when his own arm tossed aside the staff and charged through the gap left by Ren.

"Stop him!" ANBU shouted in his wake.

"No!" Ren's order rung out clearly. "Let him go... inform the Hokage we have another rogue."

Anything else they said, Minato was soon too far out of earshot to hear. And while his body moved swiftly through the forest without any apparent concern, Minato withdrew into himself, barely aware of the trees that flashed past between snatches of moonlight. He was distinctly and uncomfortable reminded of what had happened the last time the abductor had used one of his own victims as a decoy. How clever Orochimaru had been, casting a jutsu on that poor chunin, Kamina, to make him act suspiciously, and then to send Minato to hunt him down like a rat.

Looking back, Minato wondered how he could ever have mistaken Orochimaru's deception as incompetence, and how he had failed to see the truth because it had been easier to think the greatest sannin was a crappy detective rather than an evil genius. He hadn't been the only one to miss the truth, but his current predicament made it all the more galling. Was what happened to Kamina going to happen all over again, only this time with Minato mistaken as a conspirator?

Surely even Ren knew him well enough to know he couldn't really be a rogue? Even if this was a jutsu none of them had seen before, they would at least understand he was not in control of himself... right? Once they found out the pristine sannin was a mass murderer, maybe it wouldn't be that hard to believe the pristine yellow flash could be in on it too.

Minato realised he was beginning to panic, despite himself. It took a lot for him to lose his cool, though maybe being suspended inside his own mind with the uncanny feeling of treading air in empty space was enough to shake his level-headed nature. This kind of foul trick was alien to him. He wasn't sure how to cope when connection to the outside world had been cut.

If you lost the sense of your body, losing your sense of self couldn't be far behind.

And almost to prove the growing disconnect between the two, the next time Minato noticed where he was, he realised he had reached the Valley of the End. When had he arrived? How long had he been running without pause? His body was cold and fatigued, but the sensations were far away and muffled to Minato's awareness. He stood on the precipice above the gigantic carving of the Shodai Hokage, looking down at the churning waterfall. A spectacular sight even without the benefit of daylight to illuminate the full gorge. The moonlight cast impenetrably black shadows, giving the impression that the cavernous rips in the land went on forever. He'd only seen it once before as a genin with Jiraiya and his team. It looked quite different now that the eyes taking it in barely felt like his own anymore.

Upon the Shodai's head, Minato's body finally sank to sit on the bare, lichen-scarred rock. The scroll was loosened from its place on his back and set down beside him. He was settling down to wait, it seemed, head down but facing the treeline to the south. If anyone appeared, he would know about it.

For now he knew he was alone. The waterfall behind him was like white noise, almost drowning out the subtler sounds of night-time; an own keening for a partner in the forest, the crickets chirping in the grass, and the wind that whistled through the cracks and edges of the rocky valley. On an ordinary night, this would be peaceful.

At the very least, it gave Minato an opportunity to fully focus on himself. With his head tilted down he could see his hands curled loosely on his lap, familiar yet foreign. He normally didn't have to think about moving them, so how did he fight for control? Repeating commands in his head didn't work, and though he could grasp the faint sensations he still received that let him know his fingers were cold, trying to expand his sense was like fighting against a wall of concrete. Orochimaru had allowed very little give in his contractual jutsu.

All Minato could manage in the end was to make two fingers twitch straight for a brief moment. His reward was a sting of pain, and then the sight of blood blooming beneath the skin, steadily turning the fingers darker and darker until they were a florid purple by the time the sky started to lighten in prelude to sunrise.

Orochimaru hadn't been joking. Resisting the jutsu really would snap his blood vessels. A few bruises on his fingers was just a small taste of a technique that could make him bleed to death without breaking his skin.

By the time the sun began creeping over the eastern mountains, Minato was short on hope. He still couldn't move. If Orochimaru had been defeated by whoever had been breaking into the lab behind him, Minato would have been freed by now. It was really no surprise to him when a dawn shadow broke away from the trees to approach him. Stiffly, Minato's chin lifted at last and he looked up at Orochimaru.

"All is set, Minato-kun," he said, "Most of Konoha is now following a hundred false leads. We may proceed at leisure to our destination. Stand."

The cold had set in more deeply than Minato could feel. He was slow to rise and straighten, and the moment he was on his feet, Orochimaru snatched up his hand. "What is this?" he demanded, holding up Minato's bruised and swollen fingers. If someone could mingle amusement with dismay, he did so then. "Trying to push your luck? You must take better care of yourself, Minato-kun. That's my future body you've damaged with your carelessness. Fortunately, the young heal so fast."

To punctuate this, Orochimaru caressed his bony fingers over Minato's cheek.

For the first time in his life, Minato thought a ruptured aorta couldn't strike him down fast enough.

"_Get your stinking hands off him, you snake-faced freak!"_

A chill squeezed around Minato's heart. Of all the people to have come to his rescue...

_Not her... please not her..._

Orochimaru ceased the violation of Minato's cheek and dropped his hand. He looked off towards the trees at a figure that remained outside of Minato's narrow range of vision. Not much amusement was playing on his face anymore. In fact, the sannin suddenly appeared wary – an expression Minato was not used to seeing on him. "And just how did _you_ manage to trace me, Uzumaki?" he demanded.

"You? Who gives a damn about you? I'm here for _him!" _

Kushina was always so brave and passionate, especially when she had no right to be. Right now her voice rang out clearly above the waterfall, never wavering once despite facing down the most dangerous man in Konoha.

_Please go away... _Minato begged her silently. _Please just go..._

Orochimaru tilted his head to flick an unreadable glance at Minato. "I'm afraid I already have plans for him. Run along and find yourself a new lover."

"I'm not leaving here without him!" Kushina shouted. Footfalls scraped against rock; it sounded like she was running towards them.

Orochimaru grabbed the front of Minato's armoured vest, moving so fast that Minato didn't realise what was happening until he became aware that his feet were no longer touching the ground. His eyes stared dead ahead, straight towards Kushina who had stopped in her tracks as if she didn't dare move. Her horror was understandable. Minato was being dangled over the edge of an abyss, held up only by Orochimaru's grip on his clothes.

The sannin was far stronger than his slender body suggested. "Minato's not leaving with you. He either comes with me or he dies. You don't want to force my hand now, do you?"

"What's wrong with his eyes? What have you done to him?"

"Nothing I can't undo. But if you take one step closer to me, child, I will be forced to let go. How pretty will he look when his brains are splattered across the rocks below?"

Kushina scoffed uncomfortably. "You're underestimating how thick Minato's skull is if you think a fall like that could make a dent in it."

Probably true, but it wasn't a theory Minato was eager to see tested out. The long drop beneath him to the rocky base of the waterfall was a little concerning, however right then he was more worried about what was going to happen to Kushina. Someone like Orochimaru could strike her dead in an instant...

So why was he bothering to threaten Minato's life to keep her away?

"Walk away now, girl," Orochimaru intoned steadily. "There's nothing more you can do for him."

Kushina's fists clenched tightly at her sides. Of course she wasn't going to give up that easily. "What do you want with him?" she demanded.

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Then leave him and take me instead."

"Oh, now that is tempting." Orochimaru stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Very tempting. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of taking you before. One could learn a lot from someone like you... and I would have spent many merry years dissecting you and your secrets if you hadn't been under the infernal protection of the Hokage and that pathetic sensei of yours. Well, they're no longer a problem for me, it seems, but I no longer have any use for you. Yours is not a power I desire. Namikaze Minato, however, will accommodate my needs just perfectly."

Kushina's stare was stony; afraid, but drawing on that fear to sustain her courage. "I won't let you take him," she ground out, "I won't lose anyone else."

"Then you have only yourself to blame." Orochimaru deadpanned. He jerked Minato back onto the safety of solid ground and released him, before nodding his chin towards Kushina. "Kill her."

_What?_

"What?" Kushina stepped back as Minato's body was compelled to step forward.

"If you want him, you'll have to fight for him," said Orochimaru. "Are you willing to go all out against your own lover, little monster?"

Minato's hand was already sliding his kunai free, ready to exact his orders. The shock and denial paralysing his soul was mirrored back in Kushina's face, and though she should have been running, she maintained her ground. "Minato," she called to him cautiously, "You know me. Come on. Get a hold of yourself."

_Run away,_ he pleaded with her. He wasn't worth this. There was no way he could hold himself back against her, and no way was Kushina strong enough to match him. If she had sense she would forget about him and leave.

But instead she was reaching for her own kunai. "I know you're still in there," she shouted. "I know you can fight it! You're strong!"

"He's strong," Orochimaru agreed. "But the strongest are always the most vulnerable to attacks that come from within. You can't reason with him, so don't try. Accept your fate."

"You'll be accepting my boot up your ass later, you freak of fucking nature," Kushina muttered beneath her breath, eyes trained intently on Minato only. She really was going to try and fight him.

She had to be suicidal.

Minato's steps paused, gaze flicking over her stance and picking out at least three weaknesses. He was going to kill her... and he was powerless to stop himself.

His body rocketed forward without warning, closing the distance between them in barely a fraction of a moment. Kushina's desperate face was all he could see as he feinted left, spun, and struck out at her from the right. His kunai connected against hers with a hair-raising shriek of metal on metal, and the force of the blow was enough to send Kushina recoiling. She staggered and recovered, enough to deflect his kick, but not the one that followed rapidly after it, knocking the kunai straight out of her hand.

Kushina inhaled sharply, either in pain or in fury. She ducked beneath his next blow and nimbly bound out of reach beneath his own outstretched arm. Was she giving up and running? Minato could have rejoiced, except his body was determined to give chase. As Orochimaru's laughter rang out behind them, he sped after her, following the flash of streaming red hair to catch up. It took only a moment to overtake and hit the ground, sliding his legs directly across her path. She tripped and fell forward onto her hands with a squeak, but rather than fall flat where he could pin her, she shifted her momentum into a somersault and rolled straight back to her feet to continue running with barely a break.

She was lighter on her feet than he appreciated. He would have smiled if he'd been free to; instead he was forced to rise to his feet once more and continue the chase.

At one point she dared glance behind her and her eyes widened to see how close he was. She swerved sharply towards the trees and mounted a trunk with her chakra-charged feet to propel her into the branches. He caught up the same moment she swung down, aiming her feet at his head. Rather than duck, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the ground.

She didn't stand a chance. And Minato could only watch as he pressed down on her shoulder with one hand and stabbed his kunai into her throat with the other.

Kushina exploded in gust of air and smoke.

_Just a clone...?_

A weight crashed down on him from above, shoving him hard into the ground. With the tiny prick of a blade against his neck, his body wisely went still.

"Snap out of it, Minato!" Kushina yelled into his ear. "I'm here to help you!"

She would never cut into his throat, not even to save her own life. He knew it, and his body did too. He bucked hard, throwing her off his back, and slashed wildly at her. He heard her cry out. Blood flecked the dirt and a deep line of red split her upper arm. Something nearly broke in Minato at the sight, knowing he was responsible, and yet he still pursued her like an automaton, one purpose in his programming and one purpose alone: to kill Kushina.

He dived for her again. This time when she slipped back out of reach she opened her palm and Minato was hit full in the face with a blast of her wind chakra. Dust and grit threatened to fill his eyes, and he flinched away, momentarily blinded. And through that maelstrom of air, Kushina came at him.

Her blow would have knocked him unconscious, and Minato would have welcomed it. But in that last split second, Minato saw her weakness. Grabbing her arm, he spun and delivered shape jabs with his elbow to her face and chest that must have winded her. She kicked him away, breaking his grip on her arm, and vanished once more into the dust.

Minato waited.

"You have to give me a break here, Minato," Kushina's voice called. Minato turned, searching for the direction. The dust was clearing but it still lay thick in the air. "We can take down Orochimaru if we work together!"

One glimpse of red through the make-shift smokescreen and Minato flew on the offensive once more. Kushina had taken her chance to extract a ninjato from a scroll, and she swung it desperately to fend off his kunai. Their blades screeched and clicked in the tranquil morning air, spitting faint sparks as Minato pushed and pushed and forced Kushina back. She twisted and blocked. He lunged and battered down every parry.

She had always moved like a dancer when she fought, as such was the remnants of her old Whirlpool training. It kept her always one inch beyond the reach of his blade, and her movements just frenetic and graceful to remain unpredictable. But all dances had their rhythms and patterns, and Minato was quickly learning hers. It wouldn't be long until she slipped. Kushina was a better ninja than average by far, and her foreign fundamentals would always give her a slight edge, yet not even she could keep up with him. Already he could see her tiring, continually breaking away to gain some distance and advantage, only to be pinned once more trading frantic clashes to keep his blade from sinking into her.

One strike was so close that she was only saved from decapitation by virtue of choosing that moment to fall backwards over a poorly placed rock. She rolled quickly to the side to avoid being skewered, and kicked out at his knee to force distance.

On her feet, she looked around, finally noticing how close he had driven her to the edge of the edge of the gorge. Several hundred yards of free-fall awaited her if the pace continued and Kushina turned to regard him warily. Her skin looked especially pale with the bright blood streaking down her arm.

The wound, however, did not look nearly as bad as it had a few minutes ago. It didn't even appear to be bleeding anymore.

"I think I've realise something about you," she said, limping faintly as she moved counter to his slow stalking movements. "You haven't once used Hiraishin, Minato. You haven't used any jutsu at all, even. You can't use your chakra like this, can you?"

He knew she was right. While Orochimaru controlled his blood, he didn't control his chakra. There was nothing Minato could do about that except be glad that he could not use ninjutsu against Kushina. She still had little chance against him, against his jutsu she would already have been killed.

Kushina glanced over her shoulder at the valley. "If you want me," she said, "you're welcome to come get me."

And with that she turned and took a running leap off the cliff.

Minato had no time to spare for shock. Without hesitation he plunged over the edge after her, plummeting through the air towards the water-filled basin below. Kushina was below him, tumbling through the air with her hair snatching around her like a living fire.

He could see what she planned. She wanted to use the fact that he could no longer walk on water to her advantage. He'd be forced to swim, but if she hit the water first she was going to be incredibly vulnerable when he-

Suddenly Kushina shot past him. Her descent stopped dead as she opened her palms and directed a wind jutsu straight down. Minato watched in faint disbelief as she changed her trajectory like a leaf bouncing in the wind to land on the vertical cliff face with only the tiniest of wobbles – seconds before his body smashed into the frigid lake.

The cold water invaded his nose and eyes. For several horrifying moments, his body didn't seem to know what to do. He hung there, immobile and unable to breathe... feeling the tightening of suffocation in his chest that he couldn't do anything about it.

Something seized him around the arm and jerked hard, tugging his whole body along with it through the water. The shining surface of the lake was getting closer, until air broke over his face and suddenly he could breathe again. His arm remained suspended above him, wrapped by a silver chain that he followed all the way to the cliff-face where Kushina appeared to be holding the other end.

Yet another trick she had kept from him.

"I don't suppose you're grateful!" she yelled at him. "I just saved your life!"

Minato grabbed the chain with his other hand and pulled with all his might. She'd let her guard down, and with a faint shriek she came unstuck from the rock wall and fell. The moment the chain went lax, Minato shrugged it free and started swimming hard for the shelf of dry land beneath Kushina. Though she hadn't fallen far, she landed hard, and now she lay as stunned as Minato had been in the water.

_Get up,_ he prayed as he waded out of the lake, great ribbons of water running off his leaden limbs.

The ninjato Kushina had dropped in the fall lay nearby, and Minato stooped to pick it up. The chains coming from her body atomised on the ground, nothing but an illusion of chakra disappearing into the air like wisps of smoke. She lifted her upper half off the ground a little dizzily – had she hit her head? – looking for her weapon. When she saw him approaching with it in his hand, a flash of urgency crossed her face. She scrambled to her feet and fled to the cliff wall.

But Minato was faster. The moment her boot hit the rocks and she began to climb, he reached out and snatched a fistful of her hair. With a shout of pain, and fell onto her back before him. Their scuffle was anything but elegant. Kushina rolled up and slammed her feet against his chest, knocking him back but losing several clumps of hair in the process. Minato struck out as he stumbled, slicing the ninjato into the crease behind her knee.

Kushina's scream as her leg gave out was almost too much. Minato wished he could close his ears – close his eyes – _anything._ He would rather turn the blade on himself then cause her pain, but he was still advancing, forcing her up against the base of the escarpment. Blood ran freely down her leg to pool beneath her. It was useless. He'd cut her ham string and with an injury like that she might never walk again.

The horror and guilt at causing such a grievous injury to the one he loved should have swallowed him. At the same time he was holding a sword to her throat, about to kill her.

Minato honestly didn't think he was going to be able to live with himself.

"Think about what you're doing," Kushina whispered, her breath coming in shallow pants as she pressed herself back against the rock. Her eyes were wide. Confidence had fled, replaced with fear. "I know you can hear me, Minato. You have to fight this. You have to come home with me... I can't lose you. Not now. Not after Sensei..."

She went silent and squeezed her eyes shut as the blade kissed her throat, drawing beads of red along its edge.

If his blood was pumping according to Orochimaru's beat, he didn't care if his heart had to stop... he wouldn't do this. He couldn't. He would sooner die than take her life.

The muscles in his arms seized and convulsed. His hand trembled. It took all the strength and will he had, but that blade did not move deeper. He forced his tongue into obedience and demanded his lips move. Though it felt like he was attempting to communicate from the deepest level of anaesthesia, he managed to spit the word to life. _"Run."_

Kushina's eyes snapped open to fix on his. If she noticed something different in his, he certainly noticed a difference in hers. Gone were the swirling pools of green and blue that had always commanded his attention. The eyes he looked into were close to that of an animal... narrow... yellow.. fierce.

_What...?_

Her hand seized around his, over the hilt of the ninjato. "_I'm not leaving you,"_ she ground out, and her voice was lower and thicker than he'd ever known it to be. Her nails bit into his skin. Had they always been that long.

"Kill her. Quickly." Orochimaru was standing beside him. "Do it or you'll die."

But Minato's hand was being forced back. It wasn't his own will anymore, but Kushina's strength. Her grip was incredible. Orochimaru's jutsu dulled his sense of pain, but he could feel her fingers gauging into the back of his hand and see his skin turning white as she pushed back.

_Why...?_

Orochimaru was growing impatient. "Kill her and you do everyone a favour! An abomination like her should not even exist!"

Kushina's eyes screwed shut again and her lungs heaved. Was it her chakra that began to flicker over her skin like a visible aura? But Kushina's chakra was blue, not this frothing red that made his hand ache and burn like he'd dipped it in acid.

"She's nothing but an animal, cornered and fighting for her survival! Put her down, _now_!" Orochimaru screamed at him.

It took everything Minato had – more than had ever been demanded of him – to pull back the ninjato and plunge it once and for all into the rock beside Kushina's head. His whole body throbbed. He knew what was going to happen to him now... and his arm had already dropped to his side, ruined.

Orochimaru gave a caustic snort of contempt. "Then you're no use to me. You'll die with her," he said, reaching for the blood contract in his pouch.

This time when Kushina's eyes slid open, there was nothing in them. Her white, unseeing eyes wandered over him to Orochimaru, and for a few moments it was almost serene.

Then she exploded.

Waves of heat and noxious chakra blasted Minato, physically pushing him away. He had barely a moment to register the fiery _creature_ at the heart of it when it reached out to grab his leg.

And if he ever had bands of white hot iron wrapped around his flesh, Minato imagined it would feel like this. The pain was so intense he almost blacked out. He knew that he was thrown – tossed aside as easily and indifferently as a twig on the wind. He knew he slammed into the cliff face and landed on his crushed leg. He knew that he was still alive but barely conscious, looking on as the strange alien monster tore through the valley, turning water to steam and rocks to dust as it flayed and belted out agonised, inhuman screams.

There was another creature – a snake. Orochimaru's summon. They were fighting. None of what he was seeing made much sense to Minato, and his awareness of it all dimmed intermittently as he faded in and out of consciousness. Where was Kushina? She'd been there only a moment ago. With these monsters tearing around, she might be hurt.

It seemed like only a moment later, he opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by moving bodies.

"He's awake!" someone cried out.

"Minato, can you hear me?" Jiraiya loomed above him, filling his vision with shaggy white hair.

Minato licked his dry lips. "Sensei." He hadn't seen him look this worried since the time he'd almost been assassinated after the chunin exam.

"You're going to be alright, Minato, the medics are here," Jiraiya reassured him. "We have you now."

He couldn't count the number of people around him. He couldn't even make them out. They felt like demons, pulling at his clothes and his body and speaking in low, unintelligible voices Minato wasn't meant to hear. But Minato couldn't have cared less about that. "Kushina... where's Kushina?"

"They're subduing her now. Biwako's here, so she'll be alright. We think she gave Orochimaru a hell of a run for his money."

"Where?"

Jiraiya looked off to the side and Minato followed his gaze, but all he saw was that monster, trapped against the cliffs on the other side of the basin, encircled by people and ropes that looked like yapping little dogs compared to that thing.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

Jiraiya looked at him as if unsure what to say. "Minato..."

"That's not Kushina!" He struggled to sit up, even though his right side didn't seem to be working. "I have to find her. She's hurt. I have to-"

"For god's sake, Minato, don't move!" Jiraiya forcefully pushed him back down, though it didn't require much effort. "I'm going on ahead. I'll bring that bastard back if it's the last thing I do, so you have to promise me to keep still for the medics."

"But Kushina..." he whispered.

Someone else leaned over him to peer a light into his eyes. He thought he might have heard the word 'concussion'. And maybe 'shock' too.

"You can save his leg, can't you?" he heard Jiraiya ask. The daylight was fading, making it difficult to see who was talking anymore.

"The leg is the least of his worries. The poison's spreading – if we don't get him back-"

"Whatever you have to do. Do it." Jiraiya touched Minato's shoulder gently. "I'll be back, kid."

And then he was gone.

"Namikaze-san, we're going to sedate you."

An echoing scream like a chorus of tortured violins reverberated around the valley. Minato turned his head and witnessed the final thrashing of the monster pinned against the cliffs. It was beginning to slump at last, overwhelmed by the ninja surrounding it. Its tails were beginning to drop and fade; all five of them.

The medic's needle slid so easily into his neck he didn't feel it until the horrible, too-familiar numbness spread through his body, taking away his pain and control once more. The last thing he saw before the darkness overtook his vision was the monster. The fox.

Kushina.

* * *

TBC


	27. Hospital Days

A/N: So I've learnt that this fic has an entry on TV Tropes now! http:/ /tvtropes. org/pmwiki/pmwiki. php/FanFic/TheGirlFromWhirlpool (Maybe I should have put this at the end of the chapter. Anyone who viewed that link is going to be gone for hours, if not days) XD.

* * *

**The Girl From Whirlpool**

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Hospital Days

* * *

Waking up in the hospital was a long process. He'd been unconscious for several days as his body battled a deadly poison and medics carried out one surgery after another on his leg and arm. Consciousness returned to him in bits and pieces. His earliest recollection was of a couple of nurses, giggling by his bedside and arguing which one had the honour of giving a sponge bath. In all honesty he counted himself as pretty lucky he didn't recall much after that, until one afternoon he opened his eyes to take a look around him. He saw mounds of flowers piled up on the window ledge and overflowing from his bedside table, as well as an intriguing contraption holding his right knee together. _Interesting_, he thought, before he passed out again.

The next time he woke up was because an unimaginable pain gripped his body. He knew his leg was in pieces because it _felt_ exactly like that, and a fire burned through his veins so ferociously he found it difficult to breathe. He probably cried out. Medical staff came hurrying into the room and began arguing over his shuddering body. One medic said to the other it was his fault for administering the wrong dosage of painkiller. The other medic protested he'd never seen a poison like this so it wasn't his fault. Eventually, a nurse quietly hooked something to the needle in Minato's arm, and he rapidly fell back into unconsciousness where pain couldn't reach him.

The first time he truly woke up was almost a week later. Though he had lost all sense of time, he had a rough idea of how many days had passed based on his itchy beard growth. The first thing he did was scratch his cheek, and his first coherent thought was that now was an opportune time to try out a goatee.

Kushina might not take kindly to bristly kisses, however.

Triggered memories poured back into his mind. His hand dropped slowly to his side as he suddenly remembered that kisses, bristly or otherwise, were the least of his worries right now.

"Hey."

The small voice startled Minato. He blinked and rolled his head on the pillow to look at the small boy sitting in the visitor's chair, feet kicking gently against its legs. Kakashi looked well, considering, but the last time Minato had seen him was at Sakumo's memorial service.

"Hey," Minato responded, voice rough and dry. "Alright there, Kakashi?"

Kakashi's legs stopped moving and he gave Minato a surprisingly stern look for an eight year old, one which questioned how appropriate it was for a man strung up in a hospital bed with steel pins sticking out of his leg to ask his visitor if he was alright. "I'm fine," he said flatly after a while. "Your leg is kind of shattered though."

"Oh." Minato looked down at the cage around his knee. It looked incredibly painful, which made Minato very appreciative of whatever drugs were plugged into him.

"And your arm is, like, black," Kakashi added, pointing to his right arm that had been so thoroughly bandaged from fingertip to shoulder that it was impossible to tell what colour it was. Minato couldn't move it either way.

"Makes a change," Minato said, a little relieved that he could still wiggle his fingers.

"And you were poisoned pretty bad," Kakashi went on. "The doctor says your heart stopped a couple of times."

His thoughts rattled around, trying to remember how he had come to be poisoned. "I like to keep people on their toes," he said.

"But you're ok now, right?" Kakashi asked, a faintly anxious note in his voice that Minato almost missed.

"Yeah, I'm ok," Minato said, smiling at him. "It's nice you came to visit."

"Jiraiya-sama said you should always have at least one person with you at all times," Kakashi said sagely. "He says the nurses can't be trusted with you. I don't know why. I've never seen them steal anything."

Minato had a few snatches of memory that made him wonder if Kakashi had instead been charged to protect Minato's virtue rather than his valuables. "Thanks, I guess," he said to his young chaperone. "Where is Jiraiya?"

"He came with me a while ago, but he had to leave. I think he's with the Hokage." Kakashi cocked his head. "That snake guy got away. He must be really strong... he beat the Hokage and Jiraiya-sama and you too. They don't look as bad as you, though."

Minato lifted an eyebrow – just about the only part of him that didn't ache to move. "Orochimaru didn't do this to me."

"Yeah. I know." Kakashi filled his cheeks with air slowly blew it out as his gaze wandered around the room. Every time he looked at the fountain of flowers that surrounded his bed, the boy's nose twitched. Kushina had once mentioned his allergies.

"Where's Kushina?" Minato asked him steadily, holding on tight to the ball of anxiety inside him that threatened to unravel just speaking her name.

Kakashi shrugged.

"Has she been by?"

Kakashi awkwardly looked away and shrugged again. "Not really."

"She's ok? Her leg, I mean..."

"Her leg?" Kakashi shot him a puzzled look. "Is there something wrong with it? She's not said anything about it."

Well, considering Minato had hamstringed her and by all rights she shouldn't have been able to walk, Kakashi couldn't have missed it. Unless she was in fact... just fine. "Has she been released from the hospital?"

"Was never in it," said Kakashi.

Minato suddenly felt very tired. He stared up at the ceiling, noticing an old water stain in the shape of a banana that almost every single patient in this bed before him must have seen too. _Never gets sick,_ he thought to himself. _Never needs time off to heal._

After a while he cleared his rasping throat. "You're my student now," he said to Kakashi. "How about you do your Sensei a favour and get me a can of mintpop from the vending machine? We'll call it your first D-class mission."

Kakashi held out his hand. "Money."

Minato must have left his change in his other scanty hospital gown. "I'll pay you back later. This can be your first lesson – a ninja must always carry money or be prepared to procure it on short notice."

With a faint roll of his eyes, Kakashi slipped off the chair and headed for the door.

"Diet, please," Minato called after him.

"Yes, Sensei." Kakashi closed the door after him, leaving Minato alone in his quiet little hospital room.

By the time he came back, Minato was fast asleep again.

* * *

His next visitor didn't arrive till the following day, and in the interim Minato put up with the poking and prodding of various doctors and medics. Several appeared to have been assigned to him, and they routinely came in one after another, asking the same questions and messing with the same sore spots as the ones before. He had a feeling many more who _weren't_ assigned to him dropped by purely to eyeball his injuries. Doctors were weird like that. A beautiful artwork wouldn't turn their heads, but if they heard some guy had come in with a leg so badly broken it was shaped like an S, they all came running to take pictures for their scrapbook.

By evening, he was glad to be left alone to sleep. But without sedation his dreams came too close to the surface and became nightmare. They took him back to unwelcome memories and unwanted feelings where he was trapped in a dark place, his own body, looking down at himself but unable to move. Just one among many bodies in an abattoir, praying for release even if that meant death. His own helplessness surrounded him like a cage, pressing in around him and crushing him until he could hardly breathe.

The sound of a chair leg scraping against the floor broke him free, and he snapped awake, heart thundering in his chest.

Before he could face the person sitting beside his bed, he had to take a deep breath and remind himself of reality. He was free. He was in the hospital. The smell of Orochimaru's lab still hung in his nose, but it was a phantom and nothing more. Sliding a finger across the perspiration on his brow, Minato sighed and looked at his visitor.

"Good evening," said the Hokage, tipping his hat.

Minato nearly broke his other leg in his rush to sit up – bow – salute – _whatever. _"Sir!" he gasped.

The Hokage reclined comfortably in his chair. "Please relax. There are many doctors here who would be very unhappy with me if I were to cause any sort of relapse... you've been distracting nurses all week."

"Sorry," said Minato humbly.

"Well, of course." Sarutobi removed his hat slowly and placed it on his lap, which seemed a rather informal thing for him to do. "I heard you were up and talking so I thought I'd come see you. How are you feeling?"

"Not bad, but I think that's mostly because of this stuff," he said, hooking a finger around his IV tube. "The leg looks worse than it feels."

"Metal plates?" inquired the Hokage.

"Yes, sir."

"Snap," he said, tapping his own arm. "When the drugs wear off it'll really start hurting, I promise."

"Thank you, sir," said Minato uneasily, having trouble imagining a worse pain than when he'd broken it.

With a wan smile, the Hokage looked down at the hat in his lap. One finger tapped the rim speculatively. "I'm afraid what's happened to you is mostly my fault, Minato. My conscience has been weighing heavily on me."

"No, Hokage-sama," he said quickly. "I was injured because I..."

"Because?" Sarutobi tilted an ear towards him.

But Minato couldn't think why he'd been injured. His memory of events was perfect, but jumbled, like a complete jigsaw puzzle that had been dropped and was waiting to be put back in order. He knew what had happened to him... but he was not picking those pieces up yet. He didn't want to. "You're not responsible, sir. I made an error."

"I think you should know that Orochimaru has evaded us. I've sent all the people I can spare to track him down, but even with a full division I fear it would be useless. I taught him a little too well. But I never considered he could become so... twisted."

Minato looked down at his hands. The medics had removed some of his bandages earlier, and now his bruised, mottled flesh was bared for all to see. White fingers touched black fingers... and he still had trouble acknowledging they were his own. "None of us knew, Hokage-sama. We all share the blame."

"His 'laboratory' is being dismantled as we speak," the Hokage continued. "There were some survivors. A few small children. A couple of adults. They're here in the hospital too, but I've been told not to expect them to last much longer. Orochimaru's experiments have been protracted. Evil. I always knew he had an unhealthy fixation on chasing immortality, but I never expected him to go this far."

"How many has he killed?" Minato asked.

"We've found the remains of more than sixty children and over three hundred adults. There were undoubtedly more, but it'll be a while before the rest of his journals are properly explored. However, I'm already told that you were mentioned in his notes dating back many years."

"Probably. He said he wanted to _possess_ me," Minato said, hunching his shoulders. "I thought he was just mad."

"Maybe. He used a blood contract on you, didn't he?"

"I don't know what it was," Minato said more tersely than was allowed when speaking to the Hokage. However, thinking about what Orochimaru had done to him and made him do were just more pieces that Minato wanted to leave on the ground where he didn't have to look at them.

"It's a forbidden jutsu I once told him about. The preparation is painstaking; he must have planned to take you many years in advance. Although I don't understand how he would have gotten his hands on enough of your blood..."

Minato's jaw locked. "A couple of years ago I gave some to him."

The Hokage blinked. "Why would you do that?"

"He asked for it," Minato replied plainly, and when realising that answered nothing, he shrugged helplessly. "He said... he said it would help me find my father. I didn't think there was any reason not to believe him. And yes, I feel really stupid now."

The Hokage levelled him a look of deep appraisal. "Orochimaru took hundreds of people through all kinds of means. But to use this jutsu on you? I think more than anyone, more than even me or Jiraiya, Orochimaru might have feared you the most if he went to such lengths to subdue you."

"Yeah, I'm real dynamo," said Minato flatly, moving his right leg just enough for the hinges of his caged knee to squeak pathetically. "Tremble before me and my catheter."

"We both know Orochimaru didn't do this to you," said the Hokage quietly. "His mistake was in thinking there was no one else more powerful than you in the village who would oppose him."

It was like feeling a great hand reach inside him to prise the puzzle piece out of his clenched fist to show him what he dared not look at. Minato cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Hokage-sama, but I'm very tired," he said pointedly. He hoped the old man would get the hint.

The Hokage sighed. Once more he donned his hat and stood up. "Minato, you're the only one who remembers what happened in that valley. Kushina may have walked out in one piece, but she didn't escape unharmed. If either of you are going to heal, you need to do it together."

The Hokage left him to his rest, though truthfully Minato did not sleep for most of that night.

* * *

"Call two, raise six."

"Ugh, he's bluffing. That's such a bluff."

"I think what Inoichi means is that he's folding," Shikaku said, reaching out to take his teammate's hand of cards.

Inoichi yanked them out of reach. "I'm _calling_ it," he said adamantly. "All in!"

"You'll regret it," Chouza said as he himself folded. His pile of 'winnings' had been growing smaller for some time now, not necessarily because he was losing but because they were edible. None of them had much money to begin with so all they had to play for was a bag of jellybeans that some well-wisher had left by the bed.

It took a moment for Minato to realise the reason why everyone had gone quiet was because they were waiting for him. Shikaku nudged his leg pointedly – the healthy one, fortunately. Minato blinked absently at his cards. He'd long since forgotten what form they had decided to play.

"I fold," he said.

They all turned to the last player, who easily held the largest pile of jelly beans on the table. Because of his allergies the nurses had taken pity on him and given him one of their hygiene face masks to protect him from the flowers that had begun to dominate Minato's hospital room, turning it into a botanical wonder. On the plus side, Kakashi was no longer wheezing. The downside was that he had one hell of a poker face already and the mask just made it worse.

"Well?" Inoichi demanded.

Kakashi calmly laid his hand down.

"Royal flush," Minato commented, amused.

"Dammit!" Inoichi watched in despair as the eight year old dragged the last of his beans towards him. "That kid _has_ to be cheating."

"Well, duh," said Chouza.

"We're ninja, Inoichi, that's the point," Shikaku said. "We're all cheating. Even Minato."

"Sorry," said Minato, peeling back his blanket to reveal the hidden stash of cards lying on his stomach.

"That's a pretty lousy hand for a cheat," Inoichi told him. "Do you even know how to play poker?"

"Poker? I thought we were playing twist."

"That would be 'whist'," corrected Shikaku.

Inoichi was disgusted nevertheless. Not only was being whipped by an eight year old taking its toll, but losing to someone who didn't even know what game they were playing had to be pretty demoralising. "I swear, if whatever knocked his leg off knocked something loose in his head, we wouldnt be able to tell. You're such a flake, Minato."

The great thing about opiates was that Minato was not inclined to care. "I think it's my turn to deal," he said. And though he may not have known the rules that well and the other players watched him like hawks, he still managed to slip most of the aces into Kakashi's hand.

"So when do the docs say you can go back to work?" Chouza asked him.

"The same day they figure out he's faking," said Inoichi.

Minato ignored him. "Could be a couple of months, but they're always overly cautious. The next surgery is the last one, then they'll decide whether to take the leg off or let me walk home."

In the grim silence, Kakashi pushed two beans forward.

"Called," Minato met the bet.

"You seem pretty calm about this," Shikaku said. "You could really lose your leg?"

Minato shrugged. "If I do, I can always run away and join an order of monks. I know this Fire Temple guy who-"

"If I were you, I'd be pissing with rage at Orochimaru. All of us want to see that guy hanged, but you probably have more reason than us, yet you seem pretty chill about the whole thing," Inoichi said. "I mean the dude busted your leg and took your girlfriend hostage."

"I thought he took Minato hostage and Kushina saved him," Chouza interrupted.

Shikaku shook his head, "You guys are all wrong. Kushina and Minato were fighting him when he summoned some weird monster thing that did in Minato and he got away. Isn't that right, Minato?"

"I don't really remember," he said. There were so many stories of what had happened that night floating about that Minato didn't need to add his own version, especially when he himself wasn't sure if it was any more or less true than the rest.

Inoichi sighed melodramatically, "I don't think I like living in a world where the godly Yellow Flash can be reduced to this cripple we see before us who sucks at poker. I'd say we better catch that bastard soon, but he took down the Hokage and Jiraiya-sama as well on the same night. I don't think even a hundred men would be enough."

"Don't worry about Orochimaru," Minato said with serene assuredness. "He had the element of surprise this time and he got the jump on me. But next time we cross paths I'll kill him. Check."

"Check," Kakashi agreed.

Shikaku tapped his cards. "I'm checking too," he said dully, more affected by Minato's words than his bad hand. He sounded downright prophetic.

Chouza cleared his throat and changed the heavy conversation. "So what does Kushina think of your new beard?"

"Oh, so that's what it is," Shikaku remarked. "I thought the nurses were playing some kind of prank on you."

"I don't know what she thinks," said Minato. "I haven't seen her."

"What, at all?" Shikaku shared a significant look with his teammates. "She hasn't come to see you?"

"Not yet. How many points do I get for a joker?"

"You don't get points in poker – and you shouldn't even have the joker!" Inoichi's head slammed into his hands in despair.

"Maybe she's squeamish about the sight of blood," Chouza suggested, "and that's why she hasn't visited yet."

"Odd, since she doesn't hesitate to spill it," Shikaku murmured.

"I'm sure she's just busy," Minato said.

"Of course," said Chouza.

"There's a war on, so everyone's busy." Minato cast an eye around the other players. "Well, almost everyone."

"We'll have you know that we're actually very busy. We're on a mission right now, in fact," said Inoichi.

"The other jonin wanted an assessment of your fitness," Shikaku added.

"And you volunteered?" Minato cocked an eyebrow. "Or did you draw the short straw?"

Shikaku shrugged. "Something like that."

"And your verdict?"

"You're a lost cause obviously, especially against this hand." Shikaku threw down his cards with a flourish. "Full house, ladies. You're all bust."

Chouza slumped back as Inoichi bitterly saw his last jellybeans departing. But just as Shikaku began pulling the pile towards him, a small hand reached out and stopped him. They all looked at Kakashi.

"Four of a kind," said the boy.

To see the smirk slide off Shikaku's face with a hurriedly averted "fuuuu– udge", made Inoichi much happier.

With all the jellybeans in Kakashi's possession, and reasonably satisfied that they could report back to their superiors about Minato's fitness – whether it was physical or mental they were concerned about – the Ino-Shika-Chou triad soon departed. Minato was tired enough to be relieved. "We make a pretty good hustling team, Kakashi," he said. "We should do that more often."

"Sure, Sensei," said Kakashi, pushing the bag of sweets back towards Minato. "You can have my share."

"You don't want it? You won it."

"I don't like sweets."

"All eight year old boys like sweets, Kakashi," Minato told him. "Take off that mask and help yourself."

"Sweets are for children, Sensei." Nevertheless, he unhooked his mask. At least four cards fell out.

"And you're not a child, I suppose?" wondered Minato.

"No. I'm emancipated."

It was probably the biggest word he knew too. Minato sighed inwardly. "You know, you don't have to live at the centre. Me and Kushina have plenty of room."

"I just sleep at the centre. I don't live there."

"Even so... Kushina hated it there. If she'd had an alternative-"

"I don't mind it." Kakashi said impassively.

But he couldn't have been happy there. Minato remembered the centre well, although he considered that it might have changed since the days it was overcrowded with an influx of Whirlpool orphans. It had to be hard to come down from living in a large home filled with love and privilege, to living in a centre where a shoebox was all you had to call your own. Why do it? Unless that was the point.

Maybe Kakashi didn't want to be happy.

"Why didn't you tell your friends that Kushina was the one who hurt you?" Kakashi asked suddenly.

"Why would you think that?" Minato asked, collecting the cards diligently to pack away.

The boy shrugged. He kept looking at a bunch of lush tiger lilies on the nightstand and their dangling pods of pollen. His nose was twitching.

"I won't keep you here all day," Minato told him. "You can go if you like. I need a rest anyway."

"Yes, Sensei." Kakashi headed for the door.

"If you see Kushina-"

Kakashi paused and looked back at him, but Minato couldn't think what to say next. His hand had paused on a queen, noticing that while the woman's image on the top was a flawless, gently smiling lady, her reverse image was crumpled and creased almost beyond recognition by an overzealous hand; no doubt Inoichi's.

"Sensei?" Kakashi prompted him again.

"Never mind," he said, swiftly disappearing the ruined queen into the rest of the deck. "It's not important."

* * *

The crutches were a blessing when he received them, though the medical staff came to rue it rather quickly. Just days after his last surgery, when the ghoulish cage was removed and the interesting pattern of claw-shaped scars disappeared beneath the final cast, Minato was frequently seen hopping around the hospital despite being ordered to strict bed rest. The head nurse of his ward despaired every time she saw him.

"You're supposed to be resting!" she cried whenever she saw him hobbling about.

"I'm exercising," he retorted cheerfully.

"You'll do yourself another injury like that – go back to bed this instant!" She was the kind of nurse who approached all her naughty patients as she did her half-dozen naughty teenage sons.

"Just going down to the canteen, I'll be back in a minute."

"Don't make me pull rank on you!"

"Can't pull what you can't catch." He was as remarkably fast on two crutches as he was on two legs, but not so fast he couldn't pull to an awkward stop. "That may have come out wrong."

"When you fall and break that pretty neck of yours, don't expect me to come running!"

In truth, while hobbling around on crutches gave him a much needed sense of freedom, it was also incredibly tiring with a leg that either felt like it was on fire or like a deadened lead weight, depending on how much painkiller he had been given. Still, anything to keep him from being confined to a bed was welcome, for when he was confined on his back it was too easy to remember other ways he'd been confined recently. It was not what the doctor had ordered, but Minato preferred to stay active, poking his nose into various corners of the hospital.

Here he got a good idea of how the war was developing. Fewer nin were appearing in the emergency unit with injuries less severe than they'd been before, and their news was a lot more optimistic too. The push against Iwa had been relatively successful, or at least they'd been fought to a standstill in the borderlands. Konoha was still disadvantaged, and still they awaited Kumo's move with great apprehension, but even if this was just the short minute when the sun broke through the clouds on a long, stormy day, people's spirits were higher.

Minato dropped by on Anko a few times before she was released. She would always be cursed it seemed, but she was easily the happiest child in the hospital. No matter what Minato said, all she knew was that Orochimaru had been driven off the night Minato had gone after him, and that made him a big damn hero.

"I wish you'd kinda killed him though," she said frankly, on the day she was discharged. For someone so small and innocent looking, she had quite a bloodthirsty streak.

"I'm getting round to it," he promised.

Of the people transferred out of Orochimaru's labs, only one survived. A small boy around the same age as Anko, dangerously underfed and neglected. It was difficult visiting him. The boy wouldn't or _couldn't_ talk and didn't appear to have been taught how to read or write. He could at least comprehend what was said to him, and although his cheeks were gaunt and he must have been subjected to horrors that plenty of adults would have trouble coping with, he was able to smile. Given a set of coloured crayons, he wasn't that much different from any other child... as long as one did not look too closely at the drawings his imagination produced.

"Gene-spliced," said the geneticist who had been called in after the notes Orochimaru had made on his child subjects had surfaced. "We think this one was spliced with DNA from the first Hokage. He would have been taken as a baby, so it's amazing he's survived this long. All the others like him died... it could be a while before we find out his real name, if ever."

It was when Minato was relaxing one day in the hospital's foyer, having just charmed a can of soda out of the vending machine (what the nurses called it when a penniless Minato stared forlornly at the machine long enough until someone took pity on him) that Ren appeared. At first he hoped the other jonin would simply walk right by without noticing. It wasn't that Minato hated him, or that Ren was in any way a bad person – quite the opposite – only every time Minato saw him he was nagged by guilt. He was always convinced that _this _time would be the time Ren finally socked him.

Any hope of avoiding a confrontation was dashed the moment he went to the front desk and the treacherous receptionist pointed Minato out.

"You look well," Ren greeted him politely.

"Thank you," said Minato, equally as polite.

Scratching his eyebrow awkwardly, Ren said, "Last time I saw you, I think you tried to kill me."

Minato took a calm sip of his soda. "No hard feelings?"

"So you were aware of your actions."

He said that like he might be planning to arrest Minato depending on his answer.

"A little. Not that I was in control. I'd never really try to kill you, Ren."

Ren frowned, perhaps wondering about the odd emphasis placed on 'really'. As if Minato would or had tried to kill him before in less serious ways that he might not have noticed. "That's comforting."

"Was there something you needed?" Minato asked him.

"Actually, I thought maybe there was something _you_ needed," Ren said, reaching for the pocket of his vest. "I'm being dispatched tomorrow, so I thought I should give you these now."

A small sheaf of paper squares was pressed into Minato's open palm. The seal stencilled onto each reminded him of ofuda charms. "Well... thank you," he said uncertainly. "Most people just got me flowers though."

"They're not for you," said Ren quickly. "They're really for Kushina, but it's best if the person closest to her has them on hand. My aunt used to give them to Hatake Sakumo, but since he's passed I guess the responsibility now falls to you."

"And what are they?" Minato asked bluntly.

"They're chakra nullification tags. They'll stop a jinchuuriki's transformation dead if used in time, or else we get a situation like before where it took twenty people to subdue her, and she wasn't even fully transformed yet."

Minato regarded them blankly. "And what does this have to do with Kushina?"

"I... was told you knew," Ren said slowly, his expression turning confused.

"Knew what?" Minato asked, a subtle bite to the edge of his words. "I can't tell the difference between memory and imagination. You'll have to enlighten me."

Ren glanced at his leg. "I don't think your injuries look very imaginary to me."

Minato stared at him for a beat before he mustered all the limited grace he possessed and pushed himself to his feet. "You know what? This isn't my problem," he said, tossing the tags back at Ren who unsuccessfully tried to catch them as they fluttered away in multiple directions. "I bet you've all had a good time laughing behind my back, and it sure was fun having my leg nearly ripped off in order to be let into your little need-to-know club, but this isn't my responsibility. If you want someone to trail around after Kushina with a leash so she won't dismember any more people, go elsewhere. I am _not_ going to be her keeper."

He gathered his crutches and resolutely began limping away.

"Minato, don't be like this," Ren beseeched, giving up on collecting all the fallen tags. "I've been where you are now; I know it isn't easy. When I found out I could barely believe it either and it messes with your head. You think you know her better than anyone else, then suddenly you find out this huge secret, and you realise what you fell in love with wasn't the whole picture... and you wonder if she's really the same girl-"

"Please don't tell me how I'm supposed to feel," Minato tossed over his shoulder.

"You can't run away from this," Ren warned him.

"I can run away from you. Good enough."

He'd never been good at confrontations. But Ren was right. He couldn't avoid the biggest one that was yet to come.

* * *

Mikoto announced herself with a shy knock on his open door. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

Until that point, Minato had only been staring out of his window, trying hard not to think too much about the itch beneath his cast that he couldn't scratch, or much about anything else for that matter. "Mikoto," he greeted, tired, but not too tired to smile.

"I thought I'd stop by... see how you were," she said, coming into the room.

"I'm fine, I'm just sticking around for the food in this place," he said, pushing himself upright. "I'm not going to be here much longer."

"They're discharging you?" Mikoto asked, surprised.

Well, technically no. But Minato was determined to be discharged, even if it meant discharging himself out the window while the head nurse's back was turned. "They think I'm making a great recovery," he said instead, which was essentially true. "To be honest, I thought you were deployed with everyone else. I wasn't expecting to see you."

Mikoto smiled thinly. "Deployed? No... not me."

There was something strange about that smile. She'd suddenly gone so quiet that he wondered if she had really meant to come to see him. A piece of pink, folded paper lay in her hand, and Minato had been here long enough to recognise a hospital document. "Is everything ok, Mikoto? Were you here to see someone else?"

For a second, she lifted her hand as if to brush off the question with a denial. Then she went quiet again, looking down at her lap. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come... the last thing you need is to be burdened with my problems so-"

"Is this about Kushina?" he asked, interrupting her lurch for the door. She looked back at him, blinking in surprise.

"Kushina? What? No!" Her eyes fell again. "Well... yes, I suppose."

Minato sighed. Ultimately everything seemed to come down to that girl. Picking up the crutched stretched out beside him, he used it to knock the chair back invitingly. "Have a seat. I'm not going anywhere."

After a brief hesitation, Mikoto deposited herself in the chair and sat twisting her fingers over her knees. When she met his eyes, she flushed with embarrassment. "You probably think I'm being silly."

"I guess that depends on what the problem is," he said.

"If I tell you... can you promise not to tell Kushina?"

This was something she couldn't tell her best friend? Minato was not feeling too hot about secrets these days, but he nodded for the sake of hearing her out.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the ceiling. "I came to see you because I already had an appointment here-"

"You're sick?" Minato blurted, feeling a cold creep of dread.

"No... no. Not sick. I'm, uh..." Her fingers were twisting quit violently now. "I mean, me and Fugaku are going to have a baby."

It took Minato several moments to get over his astonishment. "Congratulations!" he cried. But when Mikoto only gave a watery smile in response, he wondered if that was a bit too much of a hasty assumption. "This is... good, right?"

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "Very good. I'm very happy. Terrified, and I'm not sure I'm ready for this, and I'm bound to mess up, but it's a good kind of fear, you know? Like jumping off the high dive. I feel like I want to tell everyone I meet, but the first person I want to tell... I'm not sure she'll take it well."

"You don't think Kushina will be happy for you?"

"I'm not sure. I know she hates Fugaku... she's offered to neuter him more than once _to his face _to stop exactly this from happening. But more than that, I think it would hurt her even if she approved of my husband. You know how she is about children."

Minato stared at her. He had to shrug and shake his head. "I thought she liked children."

"She does. She loves them. That's the problem though, isn't it?" Mikoto looked at him expectantly. They were the two people closest to Kushina, so why did it feel like they were on a completely different page?

"I don't understand... what's the problem?" he asked.

Mikoto's face clouded over with confusion. "You've... discussed children with Kushina before?" she said slowly. "I mean, if she was going to tell anyone, I would have thought she would tell you."

"I'm beginning to realise I shouldn't be surprised about what kind of things Kushina hasn't told me," he said stiffly. Mikoto didn't deserve his anger so he fought hard to push those thoughts aside. "Why exactly would Kushina be bothered by your being pregnant?"

Mikoto gave him a steely look. "I'm only telling you this because I know how serious you are about her and you have a right to know. I could slap that girl for keeping it to herself... though I can't say that it's not understandable." She drew in a sigh and placed a hand against her gently curving stomach almost unconsciously. Now that he knew she was pregnant, it was obvious. But Minato had never been particularly observant of the changes in other women's figures.

"Kushina can't have children, Minato."

He blinked once. Twice. "What?"

"She told me a long time ago. We were talking about the future and when we started talking about family she got upset." Mikoto shook her head sadly. "She said she has a condition that makes it too dangerous to bear children. She wouldn't say what exactly, but I know she meant it. If she gets pregnant, she'll die."

Die...?

Of course she had a condition. A monstrous, lethal, terrorising condition. How could someone like that have a child? It only made sense but...

Minato was too stunned to speak. It was rapidly becoming clear that everything he had known about Kushina – and everything he had expected of their future together... that wasn't going to happen.

"I'm sorry," Mikoto said quietly. "But you need to know that. Maybe Kushina kept quiet because she knows it's a deal-breaker for a lot of guys, but... I have a good feeling about you, Minato. If anyone could accept her as she is, it's you."

He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. There was no way she could understand just exactly how much he was expected to accept about Kushina... and yet her words didn't ring any less true.

Who else loved her more than he did? Who else did he love more than her?

"If you want me to keep your baby a secret from Kushina," he said after a while, "I will... but that's a pretty big secret and you can't hide it forever."

"I know, I feel terrible," she said miserably, "but I just need time, and the right moment-"

"She should understand. She's bound to be keeping a few secrets of her own from you too, right?"

"A secret bigger than another life inside you? I doubt that," she laughed.

Now it was Minato's turn to smile painfully. "I'm sure that as long as you are happy, Kushina would be happy for you too."

"Thank you, Minato." She smile gratefully. "I wasn't sure, but actually I do feel better now... I'll let you get your rest."

Minato was a long way off that. As Mikoto rose and started for the door, he stopped her again. "Do you have any idea where Kushina is now?" he asked.

She pursed her lips. "I guess... last I saw her, she was heading to the cemetery. That was about two hours ago, but she may still be there. That's where his grave is, you know... Sakumo-sensei's."

He nodded. "Thank you."

"And what exactly do you need to know this for? I doubt they'll discharge you today."

Minato just smiled.

* * *

Sneaking out of a hospital shouldn't have been that hard – not for a guy who had escaped at least two enemy bases in his time. The problem lay in how _that_ guy had two working legs; Minato only had one. Bribing one of the nurses with a bag of chocolates someone had left him was easy; a few more charming compliments about her hair and she was more than happy to fetch his clothes out of storage. Getting into them was a little trickier. He ended up having to slice off most of the right leg of his pants in order to fit them over his cast; it was either that or walk out the hospital in a dress.

But with his clothes on, moving through the hospital was not so easy anymore. If the head nurse saw him heading down the elevator with his jacket on, she would know he wasn't just popping down for the vending machines. With that in mind he applied a simple henge. Namikaze Minato might be buried beneath a dogpile of medics and nurses before he got to the entrance, but no one would think twice about a brunette limping out on crutches.

As he limped through the streets, it occurred to him that the doctors weren't just trying to keep him in bed to inconvenience him. Sadists they may have been, but they also had a point. Minato's leg hurt like hell and the half-mile trip to the cemetery felt not unlike a transcontinental trek.

By the time he reached the iron gates marking the entrance, he had convinced himself that she wouldn't be there and that he was torturing himself needlessly. Yet he wasn't all that surprised when, between the tall tombs and grave makers, he saw a glimpse of red hair.

He found her sitting on the sparse grass before a modest tombstone. Two names were engraved: a married couple, although until recently one of names would have been marked in red to show he still lived. But now the paint had been washed away and they finally rested together in peace, Hatake Sakumo and his wife.

A bouquet of white flowers rested at the base of the stone, probably placed there by Kushina, who was too lost in her own thoughts to hear or recognise Minato approaching from behind. He stopped a few feet away, shifting his weight onto his good leg. Fortunately it wasn't a windy day; one stout breeze might just knock him off his pegs.

"So you're a jinchuuriki."

Kushina didn't turn around, but he saw her stiffen as if he'd crashed a pair of symbols behind her head.

"And you're not just any jinchuuriki, are you?" he went on. "You're the Kyuubi. I don't really know how it happened, but I guess it was when your village was attacked. Your dad didn't seal his techniques into you – that was just some crap you fed me to shut me up. No, your dad actually sealed the nine-tailed bijuu into you, and that's why you never get sick. That's why you can break your nose one day and the next day barely have a bruise. That's why the Hokage declared a state of emergency when you went missing. That's why Orochimaru didn't want to face you. He was scared of you."

Rising slowly, Kushina wiped something from her face that might have been tears. When she turned, he expected to see her usual steely defiance, but what he saw was just a shattered remnant of it. One gust of wind could knock him down. One cruel word would destroy her completely.

"Yeah, I'm a freak. I lied to you, and I nearly got you killed," she said, voice more broken and husky than he'd ever heard it. She wiped her pink nose with the back of her hand as water stood out in her eyes. "What do you want me to say?"

"Say sorry," he said.

"Then I'm sorry!" she cried out. "I'm sorry about what I am! Sensei said I had to tell you the truth or leave you, but I was too selfish, even though I knew you see people like me as monsters! Now I've ruined everything and _I'm sorry!_"

"I've been in the hospital for two weeks," Minato said unsympathetically. "You didn't visit _once."_

She blanched. "Would you even have wanted that?"

"You were the _only_ one I wanted there, Kushina! I saw more of your ex than I saw of you."

"But-"

"And you're not the only one who has to apologise," he said. "I know I've said some things... in hindsight I guess they must have been pretty insensitive. I always thought jinchuuriki would be like the one I saw in Suna. So I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever gave you reason to think you couldn't trust me with the truth."

She stared at him, eyebrows tilting up in something resembling hope. "You're not mad at me?"

"How could I be?"

"But your leg-"

"-is healing, and it wasn't your fault. We both did a pretty big number on each other... although fortunately you seem to have some enhanced supernatural healing ability. That's pretty cool."

"Cool?" she echoed, bewildered. "Minato, are you really ok with this? With what I am?"

"You're Kushina," he said simply. "Nothing's changed."

She shifted uneasily. "That's what Ren said, but he still ended up treating me like I was a burden, like he couldn't let me go to crowded places in case I snapped and killed everyone."

"Is that likely to happen?" he wondered.

"Only if my idiot boyfriend tries to kill me again," she told him.

He smiled, because he deserved that, and if Kushina was able to joke then things couldn't be so terrible after all. "I could get used to the idea of my girlfriend being stronger than me."

She rubbed her eyes dry. "Your leg is nothing compared to the damage your ego took, right?"

He snorted. "You know me too well."

She smiled at last, weakly, but it was the greatest thing Minato had seen since he'd woken up in hospital. Transferring one crutch to his other hand, he held out his arm to her, and she gratefully stepped into his embrace without hesitation. It was a little wobbly, but no less heartfelt, and Minato buried his face in her hair and breathed in its earthy, chilled scent that told him she had been in this graveyard for far too long. She felt so small in his arms... and it was so hard to believe that she held power enough to destroy whole nations.

It really would take some getting used to, that was for sure.

He pressed his mouth to her ear and kissed it. "I love you," he swore, and felt her squeeze him back a little tighter. "Now can we go home? My leg is killing me..."

"Yes, let's go home," she agreed with a deep sigh of relief that shed two weeks' worth of pain and uncertainty. They were both too tired to say any more. To worry any more.

One of them may have been the host of the most fearsome bijuu in existence, and the other was destined to become the greatest living kage, but with his arm draped around her shoulders for support, they tottered home with no greater concern on their minds than what they would have for dinner. Except one.

"Minato?"

"Yes?"

"What's that stuff on your face?"

"It's my new beard, Kushina."

"It's not staying is it?"

* * *

TBC


End file.
